


Fall of the Dragons

by Valaena_the_Historyteller1



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aerys Is His Own Warning, Dead Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Meddling Valar, Multi, Protective Elrond, Robert's Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28474179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaena_the_Historyteller1/pseuds/Valaena_the_Historyteller1
Summary: Continuation of chapter 1 of Ice and Fire Crossovers.After leaving the shores behind, Maglor has been living with House Targaryen the last three hundred years of his life, helping them to rule. Unfortunately, Aerys madness and Rhaegar´s stupidity unleashes a disaster that threatens everything he had helped created. With plotting lords, gamers waiting for a chance, hurt prides and many more, he will struggle in a war that could not only be for Westeros, but for his own survival. Or maybe... it´s time he finally returns home after languishing in the marred world.Meanwhile, a dark presence awakes in the Lands of Always Winter, a presence that will remind the immortals of times long passed. The Valar will put their eyes again in the mortal world, where a shadow of their past dwells.
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Daeron/Maglor | Makalaurë, Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maglor | Makalaurë, Elrond Peredhel & Maglor | Makalaurë, Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maglor | Makalaurë, Fëanor | Curufinwë & Maglor | Makalaurë, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, Jon Arryn & Ned Stark, Jon Arryn & Robert Baratheon, Jon Arryn/Lysa Tully Arryn, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Maglor | Makalaurë & Nerdanel, Maglor | Makalaurë & Sons of Fëanor, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister
Comments: 9
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

“I don´t know, maybe after Aerys passes we can try again” 

Daeron rolled his eyes at this statement. Every time he and Maglor talked about trying to sail West, the other came with some weak answer: that he couldn´t leave the Targaryen Dynasty so young, that after he had made sure Aegon didn´t fuck his way through the Seven Kingdoms and back, that after the Mad King finally exhales his last breath and the Kingdoms were safely in Rhaegar´s hands… with a reason they separated for such a long time after the Rise of Valyria!! And it was not even his fault. Besides Maglor wanted to stay in that dreadful place only because of the people, not that he liked the place.

“They have broken your heart again and again” tried to remember him the sindar. “From Númenor to Gondor and Arnor, all the way from Valyria to Westeros…”

“Children tend to do that to their parents, especially when they are mortals” the other minstrel said, turning to see him to the eyes. They were both naked in the bed, spending the high hours of the night together under the protection of the darkness. “That I am immortal only makes it more apparent.”

“More reason to go West, where your own immortal child and his own get live” the silver haired loremaster was about to add something more when a loud knocking was heard on the door. Cursing in quenya, Maglor got up and grabbed a sleeping robe, covering himself.

“What?!” he asked in a bad mood. He didn´t like his nights interrupted, especially when they were in company of Daeron. The servant on the other side muttered some explanation in a low voice, but loud enough for the elf to hear. “What?” he shook his head. “Never mind, I will go in a minute.”

“Thank you, my lord”

“And what happened now, that requires your immediate attention?” asked his lover, resigning himself to another night in bed alone while the noldor squealed with the Mad King. 

“Brandon Stark just arrived with a contingent of Vale and Northern lordlings, demanding the head of Rhaegar and release of the Lady Lyanna from a clearly mad king that has thrown them in the Black Cells” Daeron felt the need to bang his head on the headpiece of the bed. Just how stupid that man could be? “Have to do damage control before this goes out of hand.”

“And Rhaegar? Thought he was with the Kingsguard in the Riverlands” asked the other minstrel. He had always been fond of that one, he was at least smart.

“I don´t know, but I will find out” Maglor finished dressing, arranging his hair in messy braids. “After I fix this before Lord Rickard graces us with his presence.”

He went down to the Throne Room with a determinate face, hoping that there was still something to do when he arrived. Personally speaking, he didn´t believe the impertinent younglings were still alive by the time he arrived before the King. Surprisingly, they were, as some guards show him later in the Black Cells. The elf sighed in relieve, maybe there was still an ounce of common sense in Aerys after all.

“Please, your Grace” he said after spending days, no, months trying to coax the king into offering the young ones a fair trial. “Brandon Stark and Elbert Arryn are the heirs of the Vale and the North, future Lord Paramounts. You can´t you just have them executed…”

“I can do whatever I want!! I am a dragon!!”

“Of course, your Grace, but the Lord Paramounts can…”

“Your Grace!! Lord Maglor!!” a servant interrupted their conversation, kneeling in front of the Iron Throne in obvious fear. “Lord Rickard Stark has arrived, demanding the release of his son. The Lord Hand has gone to receive him…”

The Feanorian inwardly cursed. Lord Owen Merryweather was a likeable enough man, but inept in any form of ruling. It annoyed the elf that Aerys replaced a perfectly useful, yet not very trustworthy, Hand as Tywin Lannister for a man who only knew how to laugh at comments that only a madman would consider funny. He would surely screw it up. He left Aerys and ran towards the entrance, hoping to stop the catastrophe that was about to be unleashed. Unfortunately, Lord Rickard wasn´t in a helpful mood. Not when he arrived, nor after talking to the incompetent Merryweather.

“My lord, please, reconsider this” the elf urged the northman. “You owed the king and his family allegiance and your heir dared to threaten the live of one of them. I know the matter of Lady Lyanna´s disappearance has everybody on their toes, but there has to be other ways to settle the matters than…”

“My daughter did not disappeared, LORD Maglor” the man answered with disrespect. Clearly, his opinion of the noldo was not a good one… or he plainly didn´t respect him. He thought him a parasite to the Throne or a mere politician without an ounce of skill in battle. Or maybe the man thought that he could do his job better. Anyway, this wasn´t very promising for the Calaquendi. “She was kidnapped. By Prince Rhaegar. And I´m going to get her and my son back.”

“At least give me some time to endear the king to this, to change his mind about… whatever he is planning for Lord Brandon. I´m sure that I can make him understand the situa…”

“I don´t need any help from you. Move!!” Rickard pushed past him, leaving the frozen elf in the hallway to the Throne Room. Such brashness would not be well received in the court of the Targaryens, not now, not ever. Which makes the situation even more dire.

“Please, Eru, protect us all. I know I have forsaken the right to ask you anything long ago, but please” he looked up before setting off to face Aerys again. “My Elros and his children, please, save them.”

When he arrived, Lord Stark was already shouting at the king that his heir was a kidnapper and a rapist. Makalaurë, who had known the boy since he got out of his mother´s womb and had been present in the Tourney at Harrenhal, was fairly sure that the couple had eloped together. He was aware of the Lady´s refusal to marry the betrothed her father choose for her (another child of Elros, Robert Baratheon, but he didn´t held him in as much stem as Rhaegar. And how could he, when the boy whored and did other morally dubious things) and that they shared an ardent correspondence, so he was convinced that they decided to run away with each other to do what young love knows best. A history worth a song in the Old Days…

But, what in other times would have been song worth, now was an utter disaster. It didn´t matter that the couple became the new Beren and Luthien, their union could spark a war between the Crown and the North, and let´s not talk about the Stormlands. Baratheons were not known for their forgiveness when one causes their anger to stir, if their family head´s pride was hurt… he didn´t even want to think about it. That was without counting the spurned Elia Martell and her family. How could Dorne forgive something like that? Rhaenys and Aegon too… What a nightmare!! Even if Aerys reacted as rational person would, which in itself was too much to ask, this had the potential to become a full blown civil war that would ravage Westeros and fracture the Targaryen Empire.

“… I demand trial by combat!!” this words returned the elf to his body, calming him down a little bit. Rickard Stark might not be a celebrated swordsman, but he was an accomplished one from what his informants told him. He had a fair chance to win against the likes of Jonothor Darry or Oswell Whent. He would definitely lose again Barristan or Arthur, so, to be sure…

“Your Grace, allow me to be your champion on this occasion. You will find no better sword than my own” Maglor proposed with a bow. It was true, but that didn´t mean he couldn´t stage a defeat. And, for his children, he would.

“No, the champion of House Targaryen is Fire” announced the Mad King with a wicked smile, making the elf´s skin crawl. At a sign from the madman on the Throne, the guards seized the Lord Paramount of the North and brought him to pyre, armour and all, while others killed his guards. “Bring his son so he could see.”

“No… AERYS, STOP!!!” Kano screamed, launching himself to free the northman. Unfortunately, he was tackled by both Barristan and Lewyn Martell before his committed a mistake. 

“Please, Lord Maglor, don´t be foolish. You are the only one that can control the king to certain point, don’t leave us to his mercy without your wise counsel” whispered Selmy to his ear once they had him on the floor. The noldo fought against them anyway, causing satisfaction to appear in Aerys eyes. 

“Hum, this is incomplete like this” the king said before calling a servant. “Bring his son from the Black Cells, so he can witness his trial!! The accused should always be there for the verdict” one of the guards did as he was told and, before he returned, Aerys devised a system with ropes that would have made Sauron pleased, simple with torturous. And with the sword just barely out of reach.

“Why is the old goat call… FATHER!!!” Brandon Stark screamed when he saw his parent tied to a stake in a pyre. Lord Rickard tried to get to him too, but he was too well secured…

“Brandon, don´t do anything he said!! Don´t!!!”

“The deal is simple, boy” the king started, sadism dripping from his voice. “You save your father before he burns down to a charred pile of bones and you are both free to go” he signalled to the sword that was hanged as a guard slipped the rope around a frozen Brandon´s neck. “Reach it and cut him free if you can. Rossart?”

“Brandon, don´t listen to him!!”

“When you are ready” at this signal, the pyromancer lit fire to the pyre. The green flames did a quick work of the dry wood, making it disappear in ashes. Rickard Stark started screaming and his son jumped to grab the sword he would never be able to reach. Parent and child´s screams of pain, agony and asphyxia resonated into a pinned Maglor´s ears as he wept and asked for Aerys to stop.

No use. Soon, the only thing that remained from the proud Rickard Stark was a bunch of dark bones, still being licked by wildfire, near the body of his firstborn, who had choked to death. Once the “entertainment” ended, the king directed his lilac eyes full of fury to the elf, who couldn´t stop his tears.

“You dared to order me in front of the entire court” as if a few terrified nobles could be called a court. “I will let you off because of the friendship you have showed my family all this years, but this won´t be without consequences!”

“Nor would your actions tonight” Maglor said as he got to his feet, his head held high. He looked all the part the Prince he once was. “Can´t you see? You have condemned your House tonight with your thoughtlessness and cruelty!! Because, if a Lord Paramount can´t have justice, who can?!! That is what the Kingdoms will say and all they will need to rise in Rebellion against us!!”

“Rebellion? They would never dare. And, once I have showed them the heads of Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark on my walls, they will never do so. They will respect the dragons…”

“Aerys, snap out of this!! You are not a dragon nor have one!!! The Lords of the Vale will never obey you…”

“Then you will go to make sure they will. And, if they don´t, you will join my armies in combat” the king ordered, glaring at him. “You have always bragged of the swordsman you are, no better time to show that than an actual war.”

“Aerys…”

“Dismissed!!”

Knowing that it wouldn´t be favourable for anyone to continue upsetting the king, Maglor bowed lightly and left the room for his chamber. The memory of one of his beloved children laughing at a spectacle fit for Morgoth made him want to throw up, but he couldn´t help it. Not with the sickness ravaging the king´s mind. He made it to his room just in time to crumble in Daeron´s arms, who was surprised to find him so destroyed. And horrified when he learned the reason. He meant, he knew what Aerys was like, having witnessed his fair share of burnings, but this was a complete new terrifying level.

“I don´t know what to do” Makalaurë confessed after crying in his husband´s arms for a good few hours. “We can always run east, but I can´t leave them with this mess. It is partially my fault, I should have done something about Aerys years ago…”

“You would never put a finger on one of your children´s hairs, let alone hurt one. There was nothing you could do” the other minstrel soothed him, running a hand through his dark locks. “I have my doubts that Rhaegar kidnapped the Stark girl, also…”

“Yes, those two must have run away together”

“They fancied themselves Beren and Luthien or something like that?”

“A little bit less adventurous, magical or something like that, but yes, I believe” Maglor separate himself from Daeron, a little bit calmer. “I… I will have to ask you to leave. Wouldn´t forgive myself if you are caught in this mess, my love.”

“Hey, I won´t leave you like this” the sinda promised. “If you have to fight in this war, then you will have me by your side.”

“Then, I will have to ask you for a favour” the noldo continued, drained. His Dairano wasn´t going to leave… but he had a way. “I will leave in the morning for the Vale, to ask Lord Jon Arryn for his wards´ heads. Not that I´m expecting him to be willing to compel, but…” he shook his head. “Anyway, if this really is to be turned into a war…”

“There is little doubt of that, by what I saw of Lord Arryn” he rolled his eyes. 

“What do you know?”

“You are not going to like it” the loremaster cleared his throat. “Lord Arryn has been plotting against the crown for a long time already. I discovered that when we stayed at Storm´s End after Cassana and Steffon… you know” he didn´t mention the horrible episode, Maglor was too depressed not to start crying again. “He shared secret correspondence with Baratheon´s great uncle and guardian, talking about making Robert king instead of a Targaryen.”

“That… answers so many questions” like the marriage pacts of lately. “Which returns us to my favour, suddenly turned more important” he walked to a coffer and opened it. Then handed the contents to Daeron. “Go to Essos and hire sellswords companies to fight for us.”

“You have soldiers…”

“They won´t be enough, not when the Vale, the Stormlands and the North goes after our throats. And, with the Riverlands torn by loyalties to Lord Tully and the Targaryen Dynasty, they will be fewer even.”

“Makalaurë…”

“I can only trust in you with this. Anyone else would sell us, sharing our weakness with the rebel side” he took Daeron´s hands on his. “Please, my love, do this for me. It´s the best way to help me right now.”

“I hate when you are like this, I can´t say no” Maglor smiled at this answer before walking to the closet they shared and unbury two coffers. They hadn´t been opened since before the Blackfyre Rebellions, but they were needed again, so he cleaned the dust and opened one. “Are you going to be fine in my absence?”

The Doriathrim sword the lid revealed was antique, more than anything in Westeros. Still sharp and ready, it was one of the best works of Eöl the Moriquende after the black swords. It was as deadly as it´s smith´s other creations and had accompanied Daeron in his many travels as a wanderer. And it was going to accompany him again in his travel to Essos, where he would be safe.

The other box contained two twin swords, one of the first that had been forged. Fëanor himself made these ones for his second son when he mastered his own double wielding style and they had tasted both edain and elder blood since then. They had a deadly reputation… the best weapon someone could take to war, as the Doriathrim had found out much to their horror. Maglor ran a finger trough the edge, finding them as sharp as ever.  
“I will be fine”

-In the Isle of the Faces-

“I think I´m pregnant” Lyanna said, cuddled by her husband´s side. It happened so fast, but considering the amount of fun they have been having since their wedding two months ago… well, she should have been expecting that. “My moon blood hasn´t come as ever and it has never failed to come in time before…”

“Let´s not take things quickly” Rhaegar continued, yawning a bit. They had a lot of action before and he was beaten… she was insatiable. A wolf in bed as in everything else. And, when they were not coupling, they were talking like this. And, seven hells, she knew how to make him talk. “Have you thought about how you would like it to be named?”

“You are going to let me name the baby? If there is a baby, I mean” Lyanna asked, surprised.

“Well, I was thinking about Jaeherys if it´s a boy or Visenya if it´s a girl” he was sure it was going to be a girl… if there was indeed a baby, that´s what he meant. “But I wasn´t talking about that. I was referring to the amilessë.”

“Amilessë? It´s that some sort of Valyrian name for epithet?”

“No, it´s… it´s a tradition in House Targaryen and other Valyrian Houses… of ancient Valyria, if I´m right” he bit his lips, trying to find a way to explain it. “It has something to do with our roots, so… the tradition dictates that the father gives a name, the ataressë, and the mother another, amilessë.”

“How… strange” now Lyanna was interested. “How does this amilessë thing work?”

“I´m not really sure, but it´s usually in quenya”

“Quenya?”

“An ancient language, even more than valyrian, that nearly all mankind has forgotten. I talk it along with Sindarin, but it´s not of much use with Maglor and Daeron as the only people I can practise them with.”

“Hummm, Maglor… and Daeron?” the mysterious minstrels. She had heard about them before from her father, but never thought much of them. Their role in court was dubious, with Daeron being absent a lot of the time and Maglor… well, they said he was a relative of the Targaryens of some kind, but no one could pinpoint his exact position in the royal family tree. Well, she was married to the Crown prince now. Surely she would have enough time to unravel those mysteries. “Can it be a northern amilessë?”

“Of course, Elia put Rhaenys Meria and Aegon Maron when I introduced her to our naming tradition” he smiled when he remembered that. “I think she was asking for wisdom and good fortune. Amilessë apacenyë...”

“What?”

“It´s just an old way of calling it on quenya, which translated to Westerossi means mother-name of foresigh. It´s a type of mother name… there were others, but the meaning was lost. Unless you ask Maglor and he is not that willing to talk about that” he rolled his eyes.

“Really?” the young princess smiled. “So… what´s yours?”

“Humm?”

“What is your amilessë?”

“Why do you want to know, my fiery she wolf?” he asked turning to her again, lowering his voice to a whisper. “It´s Elendil”


	2. Chapter 2

Jon Arryn lowered the letter when he finished reading for the fifth time. Could it be? He had to hasten his plans if this was real. The Targaryen Dynasty must be ended now, before he lost all his hopes of ever overthrow them. And what an effort it was! Much more now that he had practically lost the Tullys due to Brandon Stark´s stupidity and Jaime Lannister´s hasty decision to join the Kingsguard. No matter, no matter. One short letter to Hoster and new terms of alliance would have been stablished. For now, he only needed to inform his wards of this and he would have an instant war in the brewing. And he intended to win.

“Jon, why did you call us?” Ned asked as soon as he and Robert entered his solar. He was still uncomfortable for having to search for his friend inside a brothel, where all the whores tried to tempt him into their beds. Luckily, the boy was honourable enough to deny their attentions. “Has something happened?”

“Indeed, dear Ned. Come, take a look at this. And I warn you, it might be painful news for you” the young Stark walked to the front and grabbed the letter. Tears started to appear in his eyes by the part where it was explained that his father and brother were executed by the Mad King. “I´m sorry it has to be this way, but you are the new Lord of Winterfell now.”

“Congratulations, Ned!!” Robert said before thinking about what this would mean, earning a glare from his foster father. His friend only stayed frozen on the spot. “Oh, yes, that. Sorry your father died, friend, that sucks.”

“Not only my father, but Brandon… Brandon was executed too… by… by the Mad King” he tried to brush the tears off, but they continued to flow. He simply couldn´t stop them! “Robert, he is demanding our heads to be sent to King´s Landing for him. Aerys is even sending a member of his own family to make sure it´s done!!”

“But… but that can´t happen. Jon is not going to let them take our heads” he turned to his foster father, who was sitting near them. “Right, Jon?”

“Of course not, my boy, but we will have to be careful. The King is not known for forgiving those who had angered him. This will put the Vale and possibly the North and the Stormlands into a difficult position.”

“What difficult position?” the raven asked without understanding.

“Open Rebellion” the Valeman answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you want to keep your heads after something like this, there will definitely need to be a Rebellion. Aerys won´t tolerate disobedience, not even with a sword pointing to his neck. The bloody madman” he shook his head. “No, there will need to be a new King, a sane one.”

“So… Rhaegar must be placed into position?”

“No, the Targaryens have lasted enough as it was. It´s time for a new dynasty to emerge from the cinders of the old one” he turned to Robert. “I have raised you the best I can, Robert, and will be proud to call you my king. Just say the words and the swords of the Vale are yours. Together, we will overthrow the blasted Targaryens and their allies.”

“Jon, you…”

“I don´t want to” the Stormlord said, very serious. “I have enough with the Stormlands, why would I want to rule over all the continent? There is so much work to do and not enough time for pleasures in the life of a King” he smiled suddenly, as if he had just thought something funny. “Wonder if that turned Old Aerys crazy.”

“Robert, this is not a game” Jon Arryn tried to reason with his bratty ward. Robert had always been difficult, yes, but his boisterous personality should have made it easier for him to accept the throne. In fact, his foster father was confiding in this. “You and Ned could lose your lives, you families too…”

“Bah, Aerys only wants us, no? And Stannis and Renly can take care of themselves” the raven continued, not wanting the responsibilities that would come with a crown. “Look, I get it, okay? We need to rebel so the old goat doesn´t behead both ned and me, but isn´t there another candidate? From what I heard, Rhaegar is perfectly sane, he can take charge as he has been trained for…”

“Rhaegar is not perfectly sane, he is a monster like his father” the Lord of the Eyrie in a dark tone. He didn´t want to play this card, especially because he knew that there was a danger that, if she survived, the girl would reveal the lie, but… “Tell me, Robert, why do you think Lord Rickard risked the trip to King´s Landing, knowing what could happen to him?”

“Because Bran was there and in the Black…”

“And why was Lord Brandon there?” Ned was also listening carefully now, trying to learn the reason his family was murdered.

“For the Love of the Gods, Jon, tell everything already!! We can´t be all day answering meaningless questions!!”

“Fine” the Valeman joined his hands. “He was there because, in the middle of the final preparations for his wedding to Catelyn Tully, the boy heard that his sister, who came with him, had disappeared” Ned´s heart stopped. Lyanna disappeared? “She was last seen in company of a mysterious silver haired companion with a dark cloak, one that a servant and later Brynden Tully identified as Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“Wait, you mean that…”

“Yes, the reason Brandon Stark went to his death in King´s Landing was that your betrothed, Lady Lyanna Stark, and his sister was abducted by the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. He and his companions went to demand her back from Rhaegar and threatened his life. And for that they were thrown into the Black Cells and tortured by Aerys.”

“Gods…” the Stark´s eyes widened when he heard the name of his sister. Just how much family was he going to lose because of the Targaryens?

“What?! Rhaegar disappeared with Lyanna?! WITH MY LYANNA?!” the Stormlord began to scream, something he was really good at. “What did he do to her?”

“I can only speculate, but the Lady was last seen struggling and screaming, so I could only think that… he raped her. And probably still is” Jon Arryn prayed for the two lords to believe his history. “It wouldn´t surprise me, as he demonstrated to be more like his father than we believed.”

“HE IS WHAT?!” yes, Robert Baratheon just bit his bait. “I will kill him. I will kill him and his damn family for this. So their damn madness would never touch Westeros again!!” he turned to the old man. “Where are they Jon? Where did that madman take my betrothed?”

“I don´t know, Robert, no one does. You can try asking any of the knights loyal to him once this is over, once… once the Targaryen Dynasty has found it´s end. You will have to wait some time, as you didn´t want to claim the crown, and the new king might not be inclined to help you in any case…”

“Then I will be King!! Like you said!!” finally they were getting somewhere. The Lord of the Eyrie nodded and put on a smile of contempt. “Now, how are we going to go on? You said they were sending some dragonspawn to see Ned´s and mine executions. Is it Rhaegar himself?! I don´t think it´s Viserys, he is still a kid…”

“We shouldn´t worry about that, Jon must have planned something.”

“Of course I have, my boy, don´t care about that. I have already ordered Ser Justin Waynwood to close the bloody Gate and to the Royces to fortify the surrounding castles, besides, of course, calling my banners. You are going to be safe here.” He patted assured them. “Maglor Targaryen is not going to get anything here.”

“Maglor Targaryen, eh?” Ned frowned. He didn´t know much about the man in question, but… well… “I remember seeing him in the Tourney at Harrenhal, but not much more. Tell me, Jon, what do you know of him?”

“I… think he is a great musician” the Valeman answered, not knowing what else to say.

Jon Arryn was not the first Lord to call the man by the Targaryen name. He was so absolutely loyal to them and their blood, besides sharing and surpassing their fabled beauty, that it was very hard not to think about him as part of their family. So the lords started to call him by that name, so, despite his efforts, it stuck. More than one king found it funny. The Lord of the Eyrie had seen him first time as a young child, when Jasper Arryn took his heir to meet the royals. When he first laid eyes on the informal advisor of Aegon V, he thought how could a man be so beautiful, but then shook those thoughts away. He couldn´t think that way. The second time he saw the raven was at the festivities of the War of the Ninepenny Kings. He looked worn out and red eyed from crying despite the victory, in the arms of a mysterious silver haired man, but which really surprised him was that he hadn´t aged a day since they met each other. Jon was an adult by then and Maglor… Maglor looked as youthful as his nephew Elbert. Depressed but youthful. By then, despite Jaeherys best efforts, Jon was convinced that the Targaryens should go and started planning their downfall with some Lords. But he needed more help, so he turned to the maesters. He wasn´t having much luck until he came by Theobald and his followers, who were glad to help him in exchange of Maglor´s and his lover´s bodies. Preferably alive bodies. Apparently they were interested in their longevity. So, by selling Maglor, he got nearly everything he needed. And right now was the best time to fulfil his promise to Theobald… too bad he had more urgent matters.

“The first thing we need is to get you two to Gulltown, from where you can return to your own lands and call your banners” he instructed after a moment of silence. “I have sent a raven to Lord Marq Graffton, so he could have a ship ready for you to sail…”

“Lord Marq Graffton… I remember him” Robert said with distaste. “He practically kissed mad goat Aerys´ feet during the Grand Tourney. Don´t trust him, Jon.”

“He is my bannerman, I have known him for many years, he is a loyal valeman. He will do as I said” the Lord of the Eyrie answered. “But in case, he doesn´t, I will be backed by an army as I entered Gulltown.”

“Jon… I don´t like it. We would be started the war before time and reduce the amount of men our army had in hand. Wouldn´t be better to take the ship from the Fingers?” Ned proposed, as he wasn´t really convinced this was the best strategy. “That way, we will dodge the loyalists and avoid getting our forces damaged before confronting the Targaryens.”

“Ned, the travel through the Mountains of the Moon are dangerous. Besides, even if the ship manages to sail from the Fingers towards the Stormlands or the North, the voyage is still too dangerous due the unpredictable weather and traitorous waters around that place” the Valeman insisted. “You should take my counsel on that.”

“I will, I will accompany you to Gulltown, but once we arrive, if Lord Graffton hasn´t accepted your orders and opened the town for us, I will take the Mountains route” he sighed. “Don´t worry, something tells me that everything is going to be fine.”

“Ned, you are not one to leave it to luck, what happened to you?”

“Hey, he is just having fun, leave him be!!” Robert patted his friend on the back. “I will take the route through Gulltown, then!! Sounds like the safest one and I would be dammed if I die the same way as my parents and leave that sourpuss Stannis as Lord of the Stormlands.”

“Robert, be more serious. You are going to be a king!!”

“But I´m not one yet!! So I can do what I want!!” he grabbed Ned as if the northman was a doll. “Cheer up, Ned!! Your sister will be a queen!! Isn´t that great?!”

“Robert…”

“I know, I know, you are worried. But don´t be, Lyanna is going to be good with me. I will give her whatever time she needs to heal from everything that bastard has done to her.” The Stormlord said in a very disrespectful way. “And then we will get married, making you and me the brothers we always say we are!”

Jon Arryn was not so sure. Lyanna Stark would probably rip her betrothed’s eyes off with her nails after hearing what she did to her lover. Anyway, it didn´t matter, he had already thought of a replacement for her. And the North won´t complain, as the girl herself would have dug her own grave. Besides, Robert scarcely cared for anything else but the physical beauty in his women and Cersei Lannister was said to be the most beautiful woman in the whole Westeros. The new king wouldn´t complain about marrying her.

Now, if he only can get his hands on Maglor Targaryen and his sword swallowing lover…

-In the way to the Eyrie-

Maglor galloped along with a squad of knights from the Crownlands and Jonothor Darry towards the Eyrie at top speed. And, while doing so, remembering his farewell to Daeron. It had been a heartfelt, private thing in the port from where he was going to depart to Essos. And their conversations circulated around their departure to the West once the possible Rebellion thing was solved… and Rhaegar. Hummm, Rhaegar.

It was not that Targaryens as a whole weren´t special to him, because they were, but… Rhaegar was special to both of them. They had helped Rhaella birth him just outside Summerhall, when the tragedy stroke. The two of them… together. Maybe that was the reason the Queen named him like that, Elendil, before even Aerys got the chance to give him his ataressë. Friend of elves indeed… But, as aptly named as the boy was because of his friendship with both a sinda and a noldo, maybe they should have named him another thing. Elendil, despite his doubts about elves, was a sensible, down to earth man. Rhaegar, his namesake was… not. He would have been aptly named as Ólar or even Beren. Well, not Beren, not with Daeron present.

“Can I ask you a question, Lord Maglor?” Ser Jonothor said in one of their stops.

“Yes, if you may, Ser Jonothor”

“Exactly how old are you?” the elf shook his head. Between all the things he could ask. “I apologize if it´s a sensible question, but the people are constantly talking about how well preserved you are, even elder people like Lord Arryn. They started to ask questions and make bets…”

“And how much did you bet?”

“Not much, just… a few gold dragons” the knight lowered his head. “You don´t have to answer if you want.”

“Well” how to tell him that he was old enough to have seen the sun and moon rise on the sky? “I came here from Valyria with Aenar Targaryen, if that´s helpful.”

“NO! No one can be that old!!” he laughed, happy. With Aerys as King he rarely had those moments when he could laugh like that. 

Anyway, they kept galloping for a few days, until they arrived the Gates of the Moon, where he demanded to be let in by the Name of the King. As a member of the King´s Small Council, even an informal one, he had the authority to demand to be let in at whatever castle he arrived. He was more than surprised when the knight guarding the door refused his order.

“What?” he asked before his voice turned thunderous. “If you don´t let us in, you are going to be guilty of Treson and dealt with according to the law!! By the King himself in person, so you know what that means!! Let us in!!”

“No, we don´t obey YOUR King anymore. The Vale of Arryn has a new King to bow to”

“A new…” it stroke him like a thunder sent by Eru himself. Robert. After the realization he started to yell profanities in quenya, Sindarin and valyrian, so many that the knights accompanying him were surprised. Never had the softly spoken advisor ever used such language. He just continued, feeling fury bubble inside of him. That Viper Arryn had put his children one against another. Damn him, damn him to Angband and back. “Let´s go back.”

“But, my lord…”

“Ser Jonothor” the voice of the elf stopped the knight cold. “We need to get back and inform King Aerys as soon as we can. We need to crush the Rebellion now that it´s on it´s first leg, it should be easy, but if we let it progress… I don´t even want to think about it.” He made the horse go faster. “With the alliances they had made, we might end up losing.”

“My lord…”

“We have to get back and call the banners, whoever might fight for us… watch out!!” the scream was enough to put Ser Jonothor under guard before bandits fell upon them. Wait, bandits? They were too well armed to be bandits or clansmen. They couldn´t be anything but…

“Knights of the Vale” the Kingsguard cursed and tried to reach Maglor as soon as he could. The man was proficient on the training ground, that he knew, but on the battlefield he wouldn´t… wait, he was faring better than he would think. Too much, even. And with double blades!! He… he could be even better at swords than the best of his brothers, Ser Arthur Dayne. In the end, the raven was standing in the middle of several puddles of blood, the swords dripping red. “Are you alright, Lord Maglor?”

“I´m fine” the elf moved his sword, spraying blood everywhere before putting them back on their sheaths. “I have more experience with killing than any of you brats could tell. That I´m of use it´s the only good thing about that” He sighed, walking towards one of the attackers, who was still alive. “You, tell us what you know.”

“Over my…”

“You will tell us all and, by the time I have gotten through with you, you are going to wish you have been cooperative.”

“Damn freak” he coughed up blood. “Did you really think you can walk around the palace with your damn eternal youth and your abnormal lover and no one will take notice of that? In either of you?” he glared. “People would murder to put their hands on the source of your youth.”

“Good luck about that” Makalaurë said, his eyes hardening. These people were not only after the Targaryens, but after himself and Daeron. He stopped caring about himself, but Daeron… Daeron and his children had to survive.

-In the Isle of Faces-

“It´s a shame there was no baby on the way” Lyanna said, picking up a basket. She smiled as her husband embraced her from behind, enjoying the contact between their bodies. The woman would actually enjoy it more if he were inside of her, but she couldn´t have everything. “But soon, maybe…”

“You sound as if you are happy that we didn´t conceive” Rhaegar answered, picking his harp´s strings with a mastery that only one who learn from two great bards would have. “Didn´t you want to call him Jon? Or her Lyarra?”

“Yes, that would be fine” the girl answered. She was in no real rush to become a mother, but if so the gods decided… so be it. “What was that love song you told me about? The one where the woman saves her beloved? I want to hear it.”

“The Lay of Beren and Luthien? It´s not your usual style of song” the silver haired prince started to produce a sound with his fingers that transported the present people to a dream world. “It´s like…”

“YOUR GRACE!!!” a knight in a white cloak arrived in a powerful steed, alarming the couple. Lyanna unsheated her sword and Rhaegar dropped his harp… only to calm down later when they realised it was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Gerold Hightower. “THE VALE HAS DECLARED OPEN REBELLION, THE STORMLANDS AND THE NORTH SOON TO FOLLOW!! WE ARE AT WAR!!”

With that, the peace the newlyweds were enjoying until then shattered, much like the one of the Seven Kingdoms enjoyed. And they could only think of one thing: WHAT?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Robert´s Rebellion finally started with Jon Arryn declaring himself and his lords in open war with the Targaryens, the Taking of Gulltown about to happen and Ned having to brave his way into the North!! For his part, Maglor realises that he had to get the dust off those good Feanorian instincts if he wants to help the dragons keep their Throne. Hope you like it!!


	3. Chapter 3

“This is the best place we could think of to hide you” Rhaegar assured her, having ridden as fast as he could after receiving the news of the Rebellion starting with a battle at Gulltown. He still didn´t know how it ended up, but… he really doubted Lord Graffton could match the might of the Vale.

And disaster over disaster was starting to happen. First, his mad father had ordered the Kingsguard to enter battle, leaving only Ser Jaime Lannister and Prince Lewyn behind to apparently protect him and his grandchildren. His mother and Viserys were to be sent to Dragonstone to be kept safe in case everything turned sour, but Elia and his children were kept in the Red Keep while the Mad King sent orders to Dorne to send troupes to invade the Vale or… he didn´t even want to know the or. Anyway, he needed to ride immediately for the Capital, before he kills someone he shouldn´t have and shooed away the last few allies they had. Meanwhile…

“Are you sure now?” the Prince asked as his new wife approached him. She had given some news early in the morning, when they first arrived at the Tower. 

“Yes, I´m positive” Lyanna said, putting both hands over her belly. “I don´t know why I bled when we were in the Islands of faces. It could have been one of those bleedings my mother said presented when she was pregnant with Benjen or… or it could be a more resent conception, I don´t know. But… But I can tell it now. I´m pregnant, Rhaegar.” 

“Hummm…” the silver haired royal rubbed his chin. They hadn´t had much fun since they left the Isle of Faces, but Lyanna had continued coming to his tent whenever the group took a stop. It could very well have happened one of those times. Then again… “It´s too early to be sure.”

“I… I feel it, husband, you are going to be a father again” she talked with such a certainty that he couldn´t help but believe her. “I… I still want this baby to be named Jaeherys, for the Conciliator and the Good King.”

“And… and for a mother name… would you mind if I still named him something northern?”

“Of course not, he is half-northern, after all. As much as Rhaenys and Aegon are dornish” the Prince kissed his bride on the forehead. “My love, the amilessë is decided by the mother, no one interfered with that unless with her express permission. It´s up for you to decide.”

“I was thinking about Torhen or Benjen” she confessed. “Would have even considered Jon if that damn meddling falcon didn´t share that name with the King of Winter I admire the most. And for a girl, Lyarra would be fine, but considered Arya too.”

“Arya?”

“For my grandmother, Arya Flint. She was a clanswoman… maybe not the kind of lineage a future queen should brag about, but…”

“Don´t be so sure, my mother always reminded me that we have Blackwood blood from her grandmother, Queen Betha. And that our blood is connected to the Old Gods through that.” He smiled, remembering Rhaella´s lessons. “Elia also never let me forget that her paternal grandmother was a Uller, the House that killed Queen Rhaenys´ dragon. Always out of my father´s earshot, of course.”

“He must have hated the thought of you marrying someone with Uller blood.”

“Princess Loreza never mentioned that, he doesn´t know”

“Great for Princess Elia” Lyanna embraced him. “Rhaegar, please… save my brother. I know he can be a little bit stupid and credible, apart from nearly in love with that oaf Robert Baratheon, but… he is a good person. He is also… with Benjen… all I have. Him, me, Ben and this baby in my belly… we are all that remains of House Stark…”

“Lya…”

“Please” the girl begged again. “I… I don´t need you to assure me that he is going to live through the war, but I need to know that at least as a prisoner he is going to have some sort of… protection against whatever could befall him. Against what your father is going to do to him.”

“My father won´t be stopped by anyone”

“Then stop him, stop him the best way you can. Take the Throne away from him, so he would stop torturing the Seven Kingdoms. Do it for me and for this baby” she put his hands over her belly, despite nothing being there to feel the new life growing in his wife. “For the children you already have and for the ones to come. So they would not be subjected to the torture your were.”

“Lyanna… kinslaying…”

“You don´t have to do it yourself either if you don´t want, just make sure this is Aerys´ last war” he nodded, then put his hands over hers, right over the place the child would soon occupy. “And return to me save and whole, husband. Remember that now you have me as well as Elia praying for your return.”

“I don´t know about her…”

“Believe me, she is still praying for you. You are the father of her children, they need you as much as they need her”

Rhaegar didn´t know how to tell her that the dornish princess probably hated him now for humiliating her in front of the Seven Kingdoms, but the girl didn´t need more things to worry about. Not with a child growing in her belly. He said goodbye to her and rode off himself towards King´s Landing, leaving the three knights of the Kingsguard behind to protect his wife and future heir. Venturing alone was dangerous, he knew, but he had to leave Lyanna with some escort loyal enough to take her to Essos if something went bad.

He rode for a long time without a rest, hoping to arrive to the Red Keep before things got even worse. And they were going to get worse, now that Maglor was sent away. The advisor was between the selected group of people that could make his father see reason, without him the court would be a mess of fear and dread, with burned bodies everywhere. And, when he entered the Red Keep, being received by an icy Lewyn Martell, he knew he was right.

“Welcome, your Grace” the dornish prince said, with daggers in his eyes. The prince tried to ignore him, but some part of him felt guilty. Guilty because of what he did to the man´s niece. “The King is waiting for you.”

“Lord Maglor has returned from his assignment on the Vale?”

“Yes, but he was sent away almost immediately to stale the Rebellion” the dornishmen answered. “He is on his way with a contingent from the Crownlands to Summerhall, where some loyal stormlords are mounting a resistance against their treacherous lord.”

Rhaegar tried not to wince at the thought of musical, sweet Maglor in a battlefield. The man didn´t have a violent bone on his body, not that he knew. And he should know, as the raven has been there his whole life. Teaching him to play the harp, to talk in quenya and Sindarin, chatting about menial or important court things, sometimes with Daeron by their side… or simply listening to the other man´s tales from his trips. He also knew that the advisor was well trained and proficient with a sword or two on the training yard, but that was hardly going to save him if he didn´t have experience in the battlefield.

“How could he have done something so cruel? Maglor cried in the last Blackfyre Rebellion, according to the soldiers that were patrolling the Red Keep during it. He won´t be able to stomach the horrors of the battlefield…”

“Not according Jonothor Darry” Ser Willem Darry said, approaching the others with a concerned look on his face. “Where are the Lord Commander and the Sers? They wouldn´t have let you come alone…”

“They did, I sent them away on an important assignment” the Prince answered. “Don´t worry, they will be there for the Battle” he bit his lip at the lie. “Tell me, Ser Lewyn, is my father waiting for me in the Throne Room?”

“Yes, but you won´t like what is waiting for you out there” the Kingsguard informed, letting him enter Maegor´s Holdfast. A place that now smelled as if someone had burned massive amounts of flesh inside it. Soon he found out why. The heir to the Throne opened the chamber of that damn iron chair and…

No…

Simply, no… 

Not even he could have done something like that. It was sick. But at the same time… having pyres inside the Throne Room was something pretty much like Aerys. Specially if they were big, green, ferocious pyres with screaming prisoners inside, humans that shouldn´t have been alive at that point.

“Father…” he didn´t dare to say anything more, frozen by the fear. 

“Oh, you are here, my problematic son. Great to know you already got that a dragon takes whatever he wants, but… couldn´t it have been in another way?! Like killing those traitorous northerners and insufferable stormlands cousins of us?!” Aerys groaned. “You should have burned them before they began their stupid Rebellion.”

“Fa…”

“And now Baratheon is calling himself King!! What a stupidity!! An upstart lord from a bastard cadet branch, attempting to take what is ours… unbelievable!!”

“It´s only because…”

“Not another word!!” the Mad King interrupted him before he could even begin. “You caused this, boy, you better fix it or I will have your head along with Lord Arryn, his northern dog and his Baratheon bastard. And just to make sure you and the dornish do what I order, that wife of yours and her children are remaining here.”

“Father, Elia doesn´t have anything to do with this. You don´t even like her company” he tried to make him see reason. “Let her go, please. And the children too. They are going to be safer in the middle of Dorne than in the Rebel´s destination.”

“Oh, no. Do you think me an idiot?” just a madman, but that was not an answer that would get him out of there alive. “If I let the whore go, her brothers are going to stop sending troupes to us and I can´t allow that to happen. And if I let go the dornish mongrel and the babe, the fucking dornish are going to make a move for the throne. No, they remain here.”

“As you wish, father” he bowed. He had a plan to sneak them out of the Keep anyway…

“And don´t even think about sneaking them out through that passage behind the wardrobe in your wife´s chambers” Aerys said, smiling wickedly. What?! How did he figure that out?! “Yes, Lord Varys found out about your latest plot to take your slut and her spawns to Sunspear. Don´t even think about something like that ever again.”

“Of course… your Grace” Lyanna was right, he needed to overthrow the Mad King. If only this bloody Rebellion haven´t been on the line. “May I have a few moments with my wife and children before I depart?”

“Hummm, I suppose you can get out of here at first thing in the morning.” Aerys waved him off. “Okay, get out of my sight for now.”

“As you wish” Rhaegar went off towards his private chambers, connected with those of Elia. There he found her, looking over the Blackwater Bay from a balcony. Aegon and Rhaenys were nowhere to be seen. “Hello, Elia, where are the…”

“Don´t talk as if any of us mattered to you” the scorned princess said, turning around, her beautiful face contracted in an expression of fury. “How dare you? How dare you to come back after doing something like that?! Or even to do this?! I have been humiliated like no one before in front of the Seven Kingdoms!!”

“Elia…”

“Don´t call me like that!!” the dark haired woman walked towards her husband and slapped him hard in the face. He let her do that, grabbing her afterwards to embrace her. The Martell woman fought until she was out of breath and just sobbed. “Why? Didn´t I did my duty? Didn´t I satisfied your needs forgetting my own?”

“I never forced you to do anything you didn´t want”

“That´s not the point” she answered, growling. “What did I do to earn your scorn, husband? I have been good, loyal, a confident, given you two precious children… what has that Stark girl done for you?”

“She is going to give me a third child”

“Oh, wonderful. Should I make preparations for the Sixth Blackfyre Rebellion?” he didn´t answer, which make her suspect. “Don´t tell me you…”

“Yes, I married her in the Isle of Faces.”

“You couldn´t, you are already married to me” Elia moved away, shaking her head. “But… but it won´t be the first time a member of your family takes more than one wife, no? and the doctrine of exceptionalism is still protecting you in case you needed that, no?”

“Elia, I´m sorry if this bothers you…”

“It does more than bother me” the Princess raised her chin high, then sighed, lowered it again so he couldn´t see her eyes. Eyes that have turned into steel. “In our wedding feast, Maglor told me that I was lucky to marry you. He really believed that… me too. And for a time, I continued believing that. But not anymore, not after this.” She glared at him finally. “You have killed all my confidence in you.”

“Elia…”

“I don´t have anything more to say, just go. Rhaenys and Aegon are with their nurses, you can see them in your way out” she turned around and walked back to her balcony. “Just make sure to come back. I might not want you by my side anymore, but… they need their father and I´m no one to take that from them. Make sure to come back for them.”

“I will” he said before leaving the room. He promised himself to make up with Elia after the Rebellion was ended and Lyanna´s babe was born, he just… will give her time to breathe for now. And for Aerys´ tyranny to end. Maybe then she will forgive him.

Thinking about that, maybe this Rebellion could be useful to further his plans. If he only could try to gather Robert Baratheon, Eddard Stark and Jon Arryn to explain everything that really happened… Without another thought, he grabbed a paper and started to write a letter in Sindarin. That way he knew his damn father or his minions won´t be able to read it. Besides, he knew one someone that could read tengwar, Sindarin tengwar, in Storm´s End.

-In the Stormlands-

“Woow, you won´t believe the problems I had to get here” Robert Baratheon said to his brother as he arrived in Storm´s End, still in the armour he used to fight in the Battle for Gulltown. “We had to fight our entire way out of the Vale because a self-important lordling from a port town wanted to deny us access to it. Heh, Ned even had to take the route through the Mountains of the Moon!!”

“Welcome back, brother” Stannis answered coldly. He couldn´t believe the danger his eldest sibling put them all in. When he received the letter from Daeron following a formal one from the King… Dammit!! Couldn´t he had been more careful?! “We are glad for your safe return to our lands.”

“Bah, the only thing you are glad of is that I haven´t gotten us all killed yet” the irresponsible Lord Paramount of the Stormlands laughed at his brother´s face while said sibling gritted his teeth. Anyway, they entered the castle to go to the solar and plan a solid strategy for the war… if only Robert could keep himself still.

In reality, the only thing Stannis Baratheon wanted was to return to his studies in his normal live. As the elderly maester Cressen was the only person in the whole of Storm´s End to pay him a time of the day, the library and his lessons were like his refuge. He did his other duties, of course, but his favourite time of the day was his lessons with Cressen. But… there was a short time when it wasn´t. During Maglor´s visit to mourn for his deceased parents, he brought someone with him. Someone that recognized his intelligence, despite his utter lack of talent for music. Daeron was his name and he called himself a loremaster. He guessed it should have been some kind of maester, because he was really learned and smart. The man was also really bored there, so, while Maglor tried to reign in Robert and baby Renly, Daeron taught him Sindarin, tengwar and what he called ancient lore. Cressen said it was a collection of tales no one would believe, but… he liked it. And enjoyed Daeron´s attention. In fact, he and the man still exchanged letters from time to time, all in Sindarin.

“My lord!! A letter from Prince Rhaegar!!” one of the servants who cleaned the maester´s turret entered. The two brothers approached quickly and opened it, getting surprised when they saw what was written. 

“What in the Seven Hells is written here? It´s just a bunch of stupid drawings in a paper…”

“It´s Sindarin” his younger sibling said, grabbing the letter from him, wondering how in the Seven Hells did Rhaegar knew he could read tengwar. All the eyes in the room were on him while he uncovered the message. “It says that there has been a huge misunderstanding and that he will explain it so you can all calm down. Also talks about an alliance to overthrow Aerys…”

“Nonsense” Stannis got the letter taken from his hands by Robert. “He takes my betrothed and says it was all a misunderstanding… Ja!! The gal of that princeling” he threw the letter to the fire. “There is one way and only one way in which this Rebellion is going to end. And it´s with me over his dead body.” 

“Of course, my lord”

“I´m a King now!! King according to Jon!!”

“Then of course… your Grace!!” Stannis was not an idiot. He knew that he was going to stay there in charge of Storm´s End while his brother went out there and caved some chests in. He would like to avoid this war, but… Robert was his liege lord and his duty was to follow his orders. He always fulfilled his duties.

Humm, wonder if Daeron was going to be alright. He hoped that, if his brother wins, his friend got to survive. He already had few enough…

“Now, about those Rebel Lords of Summerhall…”

-A few days later-

“What happened here?” Maglor asked when they arrived at the outskirts of Summerhall. They should have arrived a lot earlier, but a few ambushes of armed resistance from the Stormlands delayed their arrival. Tragically, once they arrived the loyal stormlanders have been crushed.

“My lord, my lord” a surviving soldier said after explaining the situation to him. “They… they were too many. The lords were captured and… and…”

“You don´t need to explain” the elf sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dammit, this must be a nightmare. Lords Grandison, Cafferen, and Fell were our best chance to gain a foothold on the Stormlands and suffocate the Rebellion in it´s starts.” He cursed between his teeth. “Prepare yourselves now, a full blown war it´s on it´s way.”

“Lord Maglor… you didn´t participate in the Blackfyre Rebellion last time, from what I know” one of the Lords said. “Have you ever participated in a war before?”

“Thousands” the immortal answered, flexing a hand. He hoped he never need to become this elf again, but… Rhaegar needed Maglor the kinslayer, not the sweet Makalaurë he had always known. “I have commanded my men in enough wars to know where this is going… and I don´t think it´s going to be pretty.” He breathed in. “The knights of the Vale are already in the Stormlands and he had all his lords controlled now. We will face even more trouble to arrive anywhere” he turned north. “Robert Baratheon is headed this way to reunite with the northern host.”

“But… how… Ned Stark must have just arrived north…”

“Don´t underestimate the loyalty of the northmen, my lord” or their Avari ways, he said in his head. The First Men, after all, had interacted and worked with the last Avari in Middle Earth. “He is headed North, where the Rebel Army will reach it´s strongest. We need to intercept them.” He pulled a map out, deciding. “Make route to Ashford.”

“Ashford? Why?”

“There we will reunite with the forces of the Reach and manage to ambush the Rebels. And we will win.”

-In the North-

“Thank you for this… and sorry for all the troubles I caused you. Your father… I´m sorry” Eddard Stark said to the daughter of the fisherman that lost his life in the sea trying to get the new lord of Winterfell there. She huffed, moving the oar she had taken since her father´s death to keep herself and the noble alive. “I will always remember this favour.”

“Then get to your high palace and take care of your people” the girl took the gold he offered her in that moment. Gold that would last her for a lifetime. “It´s the best you lordlings can do for us.”

“Take care in the way back”

“Haven´t I already shown you? I´m perfectly capable of taking care of myself” the fisherman daughter put the oar back into the water. “If sometime you go back to the Fingers, don´t contact me. I´m not willing to make the same suicidal adventure a second time.”

“I wouldn´t ask you to”

“I doubt it” she went away.

Ned, for his part, turned away, lifting his hood just in case there were some Targaryen loyalists near. Fortunately, he didn´t find any on the way. He, otherwise, found true northerners willing to do anything to keep their lord alive. On the first village he stepped in, the Lord of Winterfell found someone willing to lend him an old but sturdy horse that could make the trip to his castle.

“Lord Eddard?” young guardsman Rodrik Cassel, the brother of the castellan of Winterfell, asked when his lord arrived in an exhausted animal. “Lord Stark!! Open the door for Lord Stark!!”

“Yes, Ser!!”

The lord entered, being surrounded by his men immediately. All started to ask about the Rebellion, the battles in Gulltown and Summerhall, despite him not participating in any of them. It took him a lot of time to silence the questions, not really accustomed to lead like Brandon was, and afterwards went to the solar to write the letters calling his banners. 

“So, you are back” Eddard lifted his head to see a very grown Benjen, much more than he remembered. “Brother, welcome home.”

“Ben, glad to see you”

“And I you, specially without that boisterous oaf you call your best friend” the child said going to his older sibling. “I couldn´t believe it when you helped him convince father to give him Lyanna, he isn´t worthy of even…”

“He is an honourable man and will be a good husband to her” Ned answered as he ever did. “That he still wants to marry her despite her not being a maiden anymore shows it.”

“Lya doesn´t want him!!” the boy screamed, trying to refrain himself from beating some sense into his brother. “Because he is a whoremonger and drunk oaf!! And he only wants Lyanna because it would make you his brother!!”

“But… but he would have changed for her…”

“Of course not!! He would have never changed!! Otherwise, we would have never heard him with some whores in his bed declaring that he would never renounce to such pleasures!! Me, Lya and Howland Reed!!” 

“Benjen, it´s enough of this lies!!”

“They are not lies, you better get that into your thick head!!” he stormed off, leaving his brother alone. Eddard continued with his letter writing, furiously. Benjen didn´t know Robert like he did, his friend was a good man. And he will be a good king. Honestly. Better than Aerys or Rhaegar would ever be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter and a little bit difficult to write, hope you enjoyed it. Anyway, the Rebellion is progressing and next time will be the confrontation between the rebels and loyalists in Ashford and the Battle of the Bells. Just before Rhaegar arrives for the Trident!! Review!!


	4. Chapter 4

“Lord Maglor”

“Lord Tarly” the noldor nodded respectfully, but no as low as Randyll would have liked. And it was… just who this up-jumped minstrel thought he was to talk to him like that in front of his men? They were on a war, not a rehearsal. Know your place, you sissy scum!! “It´s great to find allies this side of the road. Did you come with the Reach´s forces?”

“I command my own men and some more, but we are ready to attack the Rebels any time” the man said, practically showing his teeth. “Lord Mance is a little bit away, keeping his troops fresh” or trying to avoid the war as much as he can while still keeping himself appearing loyal. “We plan to attack Ashford anyway. It´s a golden opportunity to cripple the Rebels and capture Robert Baratheon before they find out.”

“Indeed” the minstrel answered, as if he understood everything the commander have said. Or perhaps he did? There was a spark of intelligence in those strange grey eyes that he had seen in many commanders before. “My troops will aid yours, but they will remain under my command.”

“Excuse me, but do you have experience managing armies? And engaging into battles?” he said in a gruff voice. “Because a bad commander could be as damaging as a…”

“You will have to wait and see, don´t you think?”

Randyll huffed, but allowed Maglor his eccentricity. He really didn´t want to deal with the aftermath if Aerys ever finds out that he denied his… brother? Cousin? Well, relative at least… control over his troops. He didn´t want to burn. Whatever damage the musician did, he was confident that he could fix it with ease. 

The battle started shortly after. In the middle of it, Lord Tarly found out he had underestimated Maglor. Or, more appropriately, he had completely dismissed him before seeing his battle prowess, a mistake he was never going to make again. He started at the man after killing Lord Cafferen, seeing him lead his troops, yelling orders and cutting through the enemy line as a knife hot butter. A new respect surged inside of him for the raven, as he was a warrior he could respect. Together, they made the Baratheon army flee northwards, towards the Riverlands.

“Are you alright, Lord Maglor?” Randyll asked when it was finished. They have won, but… the Rebels escaped with most of their men intact and towards hostile territory.

“Yes” the elf answered, spraying some blood on the ground. He wasn´t happy for the fleeing in the least, specially considered who he was fighting. Robert Baratheon was not beaten, he was sure of that. Elros was one hell of a hard headed man, something a lot of his descendants inherited. He would know, he was there. And the Baratheons were not the exception. “We need to regroup and join with Lord Tyrell.”

“He won´t be very amused by entering in battle, the coward” 

“You shouldn´t talk in that way about your liege lord” Makalaurë said, walking away from the man. He had lost his horse in the middle of the battle and, hopefully, he was going to find it alive somewhere. It was a good horse, not as much as the elven steeds he used to ride, but it was good and he hoped that it made it alive. Or, at least, he would get the elf away from the Lord for a few hours.

Unfortunately, Lord Tarly was right and Mace Tyrell was a coward and an utter idiot who didn´t doubt in stealing the credit for the battle. He also refused to change his opinion about sieging Storm´s End. It was a loss of time and troops, but the main forces of the Reach took off towards the castle of Orys. Not wanting his children to be hungry, he gave Lord Mace a letter for Stannis from his own hand, begging him to stop this madness, and yield the castle. He was sure the boy was going to ignore it, but he at least had to try. He stayed awake the next few nights after the battle worrying about the sieged boys.

“Would you mind if I accompany you, my Lord?” asked Randyll that night, holding a bowl of food. “We need to revise the plan for the capture of Robert Baratheon when we reach the Stoney Sept.”

“What?”

“Jon Connington sent orders. We are to besiege the town and search for Robert Baratheon there. He even drafted pardons for the ones that help in his capture and instructed us to do what´s necessary to end this Rebellion, even taking hostages” the elf frowned. Humans, ever retorting to such violent measures. Well, he was no one to talk like that. “Might I ask who taught you to command your troops that way, my lord?”

“You seem awfully interesting in my past, my lord” the raven answered with a cutting voice. “I bid you to be careful, you might not like what you find.”

“I only want to learn about your warrior past. That way to fight and those strategies… I have never seen them before” Maglor rolled his eyes. They were used all the times by the Feanorians in their war against Morgoth, but, just like the name, they were forgotten. “Might you answer my question?”

“I shall” the noldo talked, his mind lost into the past. “My older brother taught me. He was a great warrior and commander who fought thousands of battles, with me and our other brothers by his side” Aerys? Thought Randyll. No, that was impossible. The king was a good soldier before his madness, but not great. And definitely no commander. “He was really tall. And redhead, like my mother. I don´t remember his face very well after so much time, but… I remember his flaming hair over the armour.”

“He sounds like an admirable man”

“He was, even if many might not share my opinion” the minstrel lowered his head. “Sometimes I wonder if I will ever see him again… after so much time.”

“Do you believe in the gods, lord Maglor? Do you think the Stranger might deny you a reunion with your brother?”

“I believe in condemnation for my sins after death, just like he. And they might not like me at all” Maglor answered, remembering the condemnation of the Valar after the Theft of the Silmarils. And, for all he had endured, he didn´t think he was forgiven, not even when his heart and mind broke after the Doom of Valyria. Not even y seeing his children killing each other generation after generation. “Be good to your children and keep them united, Lord Tarly. You don´t how much good that might make you.”

“Are you a father, my Lord?” this was new. Everyone believed that Maglor was just a sword swallower and uninterested in women, but if he ever had a wife or a female lover.

“I was father to two boys, twins.” He stared at Gil Estel, the ship of Eärendil that transported his father´s creation through the skies. “They are no longer here” 

-In Riverrun-

“Well, my lord, it seems that we agree on nearly everything” Lord Hoster Tully said as he stared in the eyes of the elderly lord Jon Arryn. By his side was his brother, Ser Brynden Tully, who seemed to be a little bit alarming because of his brother´s last demand for his help in the war. “But I must insist in the wedding. My darling daughter Catelyn was deprived of a husband because of that Mad King…”

“My former ward, Lord Eddard Stark, is willing to take Lord Brandon´s place as your eldest daughter´s groom. He says it´s his duty to honour the agreement between his dead father and yourself, my lord.” he announced. “Lady Catelyn won´t be deprived of a husband for much longer.”

“Unless Lord Eddard dies in the war, leaving her a widow and us loosely allied, my lord” the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands smiled. “So I demand you to wed my younger daughter Lysa and make her the Lady of the Vale.”

“Would you marry a young woman to an old man such as I?” Brynden secretly agreed with the older man. Lord Arryn was old enough to be the brother´s father, Lady Lysa´s grandfather. Was Hoster serious about forcing her to marry such a man? No matter how ruined she was by her short affair with Petyr and aborted pregnancy, no loving father would do something like that. 

“I heard that you have had two wives and none gave you children to inherit your seat after you die. And that you recently lost your nephew, who you were preparing to be your heir” the trout lord continued. “Now, had he survived, I would have demanded that he wed Lysa, but there is no young suitor to give my youngest daughter to.”

“I have another cousin that can be my heir and your daughter´s husband, Denys…”

“It´s proved that she is fertile, if you know what I mean” Hoster pressed even more, making Brynden look at him in horror. He revealed that? Really?! That could ruin Lysa forever!! She was just a young girl, she didn´t deserve that. “And young enough to give you one or two heirs before your own time is up.”

“My Lord…”

“It´s my last offer, Lord Arryn, consider it while you have time” Jon gritter his few teeth. That was something he didn´t have, not with Connington swarming the Stoney Sept with soldiers in search of Robert. “And, my lord… remember that while you are thinking Aerys can make me another offer.”

“Would you pact with a madman? The one that sent your future goodson to the pyre?”

“If that madman gives me an advantageous counteroffer…”

Jon Arryn left the Halls of the Trout Lord with a frown in his face. Hoster Tully was of similar line of thinking than him, but also practical. He wanted to get something out of this Rebellion and his grandchildren in charge of two great castles sounded fine by him. The Tully knew that he won´t get Robert because they needed to reserve him to get the Lannisters on the alliance, so he was contenting with Stark and Arryn. And the worst part is that Aerys could very well make a counter offer. He might not have a single heir to the Throne to offer, but he had quite a few lords willing to wed his daughters for an alliance. And a brother… cousin… relative for Lady Catelyn. At least if the king managed to convince Lord Maglor to part ways with his male paramour. And no matter the rumours about his bastardy or sword swallowing tendencies, the amount of gold dragons in his Iron Bank vault had convinced more than one Lord Paramount to offer their daughters to him in the past. He remembered one celebrated occasion when Lord Tywin tried to betroth his sister to him, only to receive a stern negative.

“What did he said?” Ned asked when Jon arrived at the northern camp. “From your expression, I take it that not really good. Did he rejected me as a bridegroom? Was it because of Brandon?”

“No, he accepts you without a problem. It´s me the one who has the problem” the older lord confessed. “Lord Hoster demands that, apart from you wedding Lady Catelyn, I wed his younger daughter, the Lady Lysa.”

“Oh” he couldn´t believe that there was a father willing to marry his daughter to a man that could be her grandfather. “I have a few northern lords that would be willing to wed the girl if I ask them to…”

“Unless they are Lords Paramounts, Hoster Tully will be inflexible in his demand” the old man said, shaking his head. “Besides, any of them would be willing to take a spoiled maid?” Eddard frowned at this. “We need his troops, I have no other choice but to accept before Aerys offers another thing.”

“Would he pact with that madman?” an alarmed Eddard asked. Hoster was Lord of the Riverlands, the place where all this war was taking place. Without his help, they would lose whatever advantage they had. 

“Hoster is a practical man, he will choose whoever gives him the best chances” explained the Arryn Lord. “We will go tomorrow and accept Ladies Catelyn and Lysa together, marry as soon as we can and continue with the Rebellion. With a little bit of luck, we will leave behind heirs with them to take up our legacies if we are to fall.”

“Are you… really fine with wedding again, Jon?” Ned questioned carefully. “You said that you promised the Lady Rowena that… And Denys could very well…”

“Ned, I´m old and without an heir of my body to inherit my lands. Marrying a younger, fertile Lady is the only way to give my House new life and the Vale a new heir that will prevent a fight for succession” Jon answered with a smile. “Rowena will forgive me. And if I die before siring heirs on her, Denys could marry my widow.”

“Jon…”

“It´s going to be alright, Ned. You will see”

Eddard wasn´t convinced, but he didn´t say anything more. The next day they rode together to Riverrun and asked for an audience with Lord Hoster, where the publically asked for his daughter´s hands in marriage, as the lord demanded. The trout, delighted, accepted and clapped his hands together, ordering the servants to prepare the Sept quickly for the double wedding that would be celebrated that same week.

“My Lord, the Lord Eddard keeps to the Old Gods and his people would insist in him having a wedding through them for it to be officially accepted in the North”

“No problem, Lord Arryn” the Lord of Riverrun answered. “There is a little godswood in the castle where the northerners could celebrate a second wedding once the one in the sept has finished. Catelyn won´t mind either, we have been working on her respect to those customs since she was betrothed to Lord Brandon.” 

“And the brides surely will need more time to prepare their maiden cloaks and pray to the Maiden…”

“My daughters are prepared, my lords, both of them” the trout lord answered. “And luckily, Lord Brandon left most of his baggage here, including the wedding cloak that he intended to bestow upon my daughter. My servants also accepted the task of creating a wedding cloak with the sigil of House Arryn for Lysa, that way it will be ready for the ceremony in the sept” apparently, the man had everything planned. “As you see everything is set. Utherydes” he called for his steward. “Call Lady Catelyn and Lady Lysa.”

Eddard sighed, ready to meet his betrothed for the first time as her future husband. He knew that he was going to be a disappointment for her after she met the charming Brandon, but at least not so much as Lady Lysa´s when she saw her own future spouse. She even refused to let him hold and kiss her hand when they were introduced. A behaviour that continued all the week they spent in Riverrun waiting for the wedding.

The ceremony at the sept was no exception. While Lady Catelyn appeared smiling and charming, ever the perfect lady despite not knowing her betrothed very well, Lady Lysa had to practically be dragged down the isle by her father. The poor girl even seemed to have cried all night long, by the look of those eyes. She continued crying during the ceremonies, even the second one for Lord Stark.

“Your sister looked sad with her marriage” he commented to his bride when they were taken to a room for the bedding, a little bit nervous. He had never done this with a woman, not even Ashara… specially Ashara. Brandon got her too. 

“She will get over it” Catelyn said, a little bit shy. Her husband hasn´t made a move towards her. Was she undesirable in some way? Brandon or any other boy would have already made a move to take her maidenhead. And she wasn´t just some maiden offering herself to him, she was his wife! He was supposed to bed her. “Husband, did I do something to displease you?”

“Not at all!! Ehhh… wife. I just… have never this with a woman before” the Lady raised an eyebrow. Weren´t young lords supposed to be educated in this? Don´t misunderstand her, she wasn´t complaining. She pretty much preferred a husband that would keep to her bed than one that would constantly go to the whores, but not even one girl?

“Well, Lord Eddard, it seems that we are going to lose our maidenheads together” she said as she sat down. “Would you like a cup of wine or two to make this less uncomfortable?” the lady extended him a goblet, which he readily accepted. “I think we should also talk. To get to know each other better, my lord.”

“You are my wife, my lady, I think we shouldn´t be so formal with each other” the northerner said, smiling at her. A tiny step, but one important to him. “You may call me Ned if you want. All my family did.”

“Only if you call me Cat” the copper haired woman answered, smiling. Yes, this might work after all. 

“Ned and Cat then, wife”

-Days later-

“Hey, Ned” Robert Baratheon greeted his old friend when this one arrived at the Peach, where he had been hiding before the Battle of the Bells, as it has been called. The Rebel forces also retreated there before the northern army arrived with the forces of Riverrun. Eddard looked at him with a frown, accompanied by Jon Arryn, who wasn´t exactly in the best of humours either. And, as he had nearly been killed in the battle, he was entitled to do. “See you won the battle for me.”

“I only made Connington flee, something really hard with Maglor Targaryen slashing his way through my forces” he remembered it very well. “For a court musician and political advisor, the man has talent with a sword.”

“Nonsense! You put the fear of the North into his heart surely!! Damn dragonspawn, probably as crazy as… whatever the other dragonspawn are to him” Robert said, trying to remember exactly where in the genealogical tree the raven was before giving up. “Anyway, cheer up!! I have been hiding in this precious place the last week and you wouldn´t know the amount of adorable women that are here.”

“Don´t disrespect my sister, Robert”

“I´m not, Ned, believe me!!” the Stormlord raised his hands. “I´m only… saying goodbye to the other women before reuniting with my dear Lyanna. And she shouldn´t wait for long!! I will win this war and free her before long!!”

“I hope so too” Eddard turned away, walking towards the house where Lord Hoster was being tended to by a maester. He was his goodfather now, after all, and one of their principal allies. He needed to make sure that he survives the injury Jon Connington dealt him. He also wanted to interrogate the prisoners from the Targaryen side about Lyanna, hoping that someone would know.

In the end, he only got one bit of information. That if someone were to know Rhaegar´s whereabouts, it would be Lord Maglor. 

-In Essos-

“Do we have a deal?” Daeron asked the leader of the Seconds Sons after treating the whole army of sellswords to eat and drink, courtesy of Makalaurë´s vaults. He had already done this for the Tattered Prince, the Golden Company… he hadn´t already sunk so low as to threat the Brave Companions, but he was about.

“I don´t think so” the commander answered, taking another goblet of wine. 

“And might I ask why?” the silver haired elf questioned, glaring at the man. 

“I have gathered information since I heard about you making propositions to several sellsword companies, about that little endeavour of yours, even before you approached us… and it seems that your side is losing, my Lord. Besides, even if we were to take it, it would be dangerous for us to deal with a madman that could send us to the pyre just because we demanded our compensation.”

“Aerys Targaryen, Second of his Name, will honour any agreement made to his name.”

“Sorry for not believing you” the man raised himself from the chair he was using. “And I wouldn´t want to fight on a losing side. It would be awfully demanding to unbury your side from the hole you have dug yourselves in.”

“We are not defeated yet. How can I convince you to fight on the Loyalist side?”

“Nothing, I can see where this is going. We aren’t going to risk our lives in a fight we can´t win”

Frustrated, Daeron was ready to offer the Feanorian rings he had with him in that moment, but stopped himself just in time. Those jewels were special, made by Fëanor himself for his sons when they reached their majority back in Aman. Probably the last works the fabled smith made before the whole mess with the Silmarils began. Makalaurë told him that he could use them too, but… he didn´t want to. They were a memento of his husband´s family, the last one he had, Daeron couldn´t possibly give them away.

“Are we really losing?” he asked to the sky as he went back to the room he rented in the Inn, searching for a new sellsword company to offer money next. Hopefully one with enough men and weaponry to turn the tides of the war… “Please take care of yourself, Makalaurë. I can´t wait for thousands of years until Mandos releases you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to look bad for the loyalists with a win and a lose. Next chapter, the Battle of the Trident will decide who takes the Iron Throne. And an ancient voice is going to be raised again to curse someone he loves and a meddling falcon. Review!!


	5. Chapter 5

“Welcome, my prince”

Rhaegar winced when he received the cold welcome Maglor gave him. Being sincere, it could be worse. Or not, because he would rather face his anger than his disappointment. Or Daeron´s. He didn´t tell many people, but he considered the two kind of his surrogate fathers. With Aerys turning madder each day and practically unable to perform an adequate role as a parent, it would have been surprising that he didn´t turn to another to fulfil that void. And the older musicians were both close to his family and great. Besides, Rhaella also pushed him towards them, saying that she would be glad if he turns into a compassionate, loving, smart man like them when he grew up. 

Anyway, as the prince was explained the whole situation, he felt dread filling up his body. Now that he thought about it, it made a lot of reason. Lord Arryn had never been much of a loyalist and, despite not being at the same level of Tywin Lannister, had his own ambitions. He needed to be dealt with… preferably before he causes the destruction of three of the greatest noble families. And perhaps it would be for the better, as he could probably spare Lord Stark from the slaughter his father was going to order after the Rebellion was.

His gaze fell down to the sword Maglor just gave him, testing it against a tree. Andúril… it sounded very important. It was not as beautiful as they said Dark Sister was or as famous as Blackfyre, but it´s legacy felt heavier than any of them. It was… it was as if it´s wilders have left their expectations on it. A Sword of King. A True Royal Weapon, from even before the ancient Valryian Empire.

“Hope you bring victory to me in battle” he whispered to the steel, almost sensing it respond. Unknowingly to him, he won´t be the first Elendil to wield it. A sound interrupted his muthering in that moment. “What is it?!!”

“The messenger returned, my prince” Ser Barristan explained as the silver haired royal sheated the sword. The knight he had sent went towards him, a worried expression in his face. Obviously, the talks with the Rebel Lords have been everything but productive. “We are in a big problem, my prince.”

“Indeed” Rhaegar gripped the handle of his sword before looking towards Maglor. “Tomorrow we will cross the River Trident. We surely are going to meet the Rebel Army there. Lord Maglor” he turned to the elf. “You and Lord Randyll are our strategists. Is there a route through which we can avoid direct confrontation with them?”

“I´m not sure…”

“There is none” Tarly intervened before the noldor could utter another word. “And believe me, your Grace, it´s better that way. Now that your cousin, Lord Baratheon, has announced his claim to the Iron Throne, only having him beaten in battle like the Blackfires could end this War. You have to go into battle and end in there yourself, your Grace.”

“No” Makalaurë said firmly. “A kinslaying won´t be tolerated by the kingdom in any circumstance. It´s such an awful sin that…”

“I didn´t think you were such a religious man, Lord Maglor”

“I´m not, but I won´t allow that either” the elf said, fiercely. “You shouldn´t engage in combat either. We can´t afford to lose you, Rhaegar, we simply can´t. If you were to fall in battle, the Targaryen Dynasty would be left without an heir and unstable.”

“My father still has Viserys and I Aegon, the Throne would still have an…”

“Aegon is a babe and Viserys a child, my prince, and after Aerys reign they will have no support in the case they are left as heirs. Elia and Rhaella would do whatever they could, but they would have their hands tied by the limitations of being women. And, in that instability, other threads could appear and more Rebellions spark. Please, my prince” the minstrel begged. “don´t try to engage Lord Baratheon in battle or enter the fray. We can´t afford to lose you.”

“I have to, my lord. What kind of prince would I be if I let my men face the dangers of battle alone while I remain save in the back?” he sounded so much like Elros when he said that that Maglor nearly sobbed. “I can´t promised that we will win or anything like that, but I can promise that until the end, I will be the prince you taught me to be. And if I were to fall… so be it.”

“You are noble, my… prince” the elf talked. “I will pray to Eru and the Valar for your success.”

“And I to the Seven for we all to make it out alive”

Rhaegar wasn´t particularly faithful… well, not many of the Targaryen really were, but that night he prayed to the Warrior hard for their success in battle. He could feel the sounds of preparations outside his tent and his squires preparing his armour… sounds he never wanted to heard in his life. Why was this happening? He kneeled down again and started reciting prayers in quenya and Sindarin. Prayers to those ancient gods both Maglor and Daeron believed in. Gods the Ancient Valyrians also believed in before the Doom fell over the Empire and they were forced to convert to the Seven to be accepted in Westeros. He hoped they would hear his prayers and spare his loved ones and friends…

Unfortunately, the gods weren´t hearing him that night. The battle of the Trident, as it was later called, was long and bloody. Rhaegar himself cut down many men, already feeling tired when he saw his chance to end the Rebellion. Believing that he could defeat Robert Baratheon, he rode towards his cousin, sword in hand, engaging in combat with the bigger gruff. If only he managed to sink his sword in the man´s chest, he would finish this bloodbath!! Also secure the Targaryen Dynasty!! And Lyanna… Lyanna won´t ever have to worry about him again. Seeing an opening in an unexpected moment, Rhaegar wielded Andúril and stabbed Robert, feeling the victory for a scant second… before he realised that he had failed because of a Warhammer in his chest.

His ribs cracked…

He felt from his horse…

Pain, pain everywhere.

And the sword of Kings falling from his hands and into the Riverbank, which was coloured red with his blood. He wondered for a second what was going to happen to his children, to his mother, both his wives. Would Lyanna be forced to marry Robert? Or would he change her for another woman after he noticed she was no maiden anymore? Elia? Would she be returned to Dorne in disgrace with the children? What will happen if his family fell from power? The children… gods, Lyanna´s child would never know his father.

Maglor´s agonizing scream was the last thing he heard as darkness claimed him.

Lyanna´s child. He should have given her suggestions for the amilessë, even if it went against traditions. A quenya amilessë. He should have told her that he would like for his child to be named…

“It´s a great surprise to see one of the edain in my Halls” his eyes snapped open when he heard those words. The first thing he did was to touch his chest. He didn´t felt pain anymore, but… “Don’t alarm yourself, fëas can´t feel pain if they aren´t in a hröa.” Rhaegar looked at the great being with fear. Did it mean… “You fell, little edain, on battle, if I´m not mistaken.”

“Are then this the Stranger´s home then, my Lord?”

“Yes and no. Or at least, not for you. Edain souls go beyond the circles of the world so fast that they don´t notice their pass through my home… but you stopped before doing that. Which makes you interesting. Tell me, boy, what is your name?”

“Normally the host presents himself first, my lord”

“Are you really demanding a name form one of the Valar, child?” the spirit said, annoyed. Valar… Maglor´s and Daeron´s gods!! Then he must be… “I´m Námo, also known as Mandos, Lord of the Halls of Waiting and Incarnation of Death. Now you give yours, unexpected guest.”

“Right” yes, Námo. The Stranger, if one would go by the Light of the Seven, but he decided to forgo that name not to offend the powerful being. Also… “I´m Rhaegar Elendil Targaryen, from the lineage of Valyria.”

“An amilessë? Unusual in edain this times. I thought they have forgotten all the traditions of the Eldar when they departed from their world, but I guess I was wrong.” Mandos looked at him, analysing. “Valyria, you said? More like Numenorian. You have that spark… human but with a tiny ember of elf and even Ainur… yes, Numenorian.”

“Excuse me? I know where my family is from” he bit his lip before swapping to quenya. “And I happen to know what Númenor, Gondor and Arnor are. You are right, Lord Námo, I´m from Numenorian descend. Valyria was the country they founded after they were forced to abandon the Reunited Kingdom.”

“You talk quenya also? Amilessë and quenya… did an elf have a hand in your raising, boy?” 

“Lords Maglor and Daeron…”

“Afff, those two!!” Námo said with a tired sound. “Wonder when I would hear of that kinslayer and his partner again. Are they still wandering the shores in repentance for their sins? They should have heard the call of the sea long ago and come to the Immortal Lands. Or in Maglor´s case, return.”

“Is there an impediment for them to come?”

“Daeron of Doriath can come whenever he wants, but Kannafinwë Makalaurë is still under the Doom of the Noldor. He won´t be able to come without passing through my Halls first and stay for a prolonged time…”

“Then how do you want Lord Daeron to come to this lands? He doesn´t want to be separated with his love. And Lord Maglor… you probably haven´t been seeing the world of the humans so well, because he had suffered a lot already. Please, let them cross without the need of dying. The two of them.”

“Maglor is a kinslayer and a criminal in the eyes of the eldar and the Valar, one that still hasn´t atoned for his sins…”

“Is there something I could do to change your mind?” Rhaegar insisted. After how much they have done for him and everything he had done, what his rushed decision with Lyanna have provoked… it was the least he could do. “I´m not the mythical Princess Luthien, but I´m a good musician. Let me, her descendant according to the myth, sing for you as she did to earn your help.”

“You truly are a descendant of not only Lúthien but Elrond to talk to me like that” Námo said, extending his hand. A maia immediately rushed towards the prince, bearing a harp much like the one he used to play for the court, but more ethereal. “Back when she was here, the princess danced and sang for me to return her Beren from beyond the world, but I think you would be more comfortable playing. Go ahead, then. Sway my decision and I will talk to the Valar to let Maglor Feanorion cross the sea.”

Rhaegar nodded and started singing, hands expertly playing the harp. He began with popular songs from the Seven Kingdoms. Jenny of Oldstones never failed to bring tears to the eyes of the people… until now. Námo seemed unmovable. Then he sang a western version of the Noldolante, followed by the many songs he learned from Daeron and Maglor… then his own compositions. The Lay of Naerys and Aemon seemed to move the stoic Vala a bit, along with the Wanderers, Three Conquerors, Rhaenys Last Flight, Dance of Dragons and… Elia and Lyanna, a new song he was composing before the war sparked. 

“What do you think?” Námo asked an invisible guest when Rhaegar was concentrated in that last song. It was none other than his brother Irmo, the Vala of the Dreams. “I am moved to ask Ulmo to allow Maglor Feanorion to cross if he survives.”

“If he survives, which is quite dubious by the interesting dreams I have seen” Lórien said, having paid more attention to Middle Earth after Mandos told him of Rhaegar´s presence in his Halls. “Might be a little bit more complicated than that.”

“He also expressed another wish, one that you might be able to concede for him” the Lord of the Halls said. “The boy wanted to tell his wife to give their unborn child a quenya amilessë. He said before it could have a northern one, but after that war…”

“Don´t worry, I have something in mind” Irmo assured. “For a child so special that it carries the hopes of more than one, there is a special name in my mind.”

“Hopes of more than one? What are you talking about, brother?”

“Darkness lures in the northernmost part of their world, Námo, a kind of Darkness I haven´t seen since the chaining of our sibling…” he shook his head. “I have tried to bring it up with Manwë, but I´m alone in this. If only it could be more than me…”

“Interesting” Mandos lifted himself from his Throne. “Prince Rhaegar Elendil Targaryen, you have convinced me. I will talk to Lord Ulmo tomorrow about allowing Maglor Feanrion to come back to the land he was born into.” A smile appeared in the prince´s face. “Cross to the doors to the beyond with the assurance that I will make whatever is needed to keep our deal.”

“What are you doing, brother?” the Lord of Dreams asked as he saw the human cross.

“Making sure you are in the right” the Lord of the Halls answered, crossing his arms. “During the whole ordeal, we will be vigilant, the three of us… to make sure that the Darkness really comes from Melkor or his servants. Then we go to Manwë and make him listen.” He stopped a second. “About that unborn child with a great destiny…”

“I already know what to do”

Miles away, Lyanna was opening her eyes in the Tower of Joy, still unaware of her husband´s decease. Images swirled in her thoughts, the same as her dreams, all of a young king with a shinning sword raised against darkness, valiantly leading his troops under a white tree banner. Against a great red eye in the sky…

“Estel” she muttered, putting a hand over her swollen belly as her child moved. A child of hope, as his name said.

-In another place-

“When I wondered who would visit me first in my confinement, I never thought it would be you. What can I do for you, Lord Umber?” Maglor said from his position, tied up in one of Lord Arryn´s tents.

“I ain´t no lord. And you ain´t either” the Feanorian frowned, as Mors Umber entered the place with a knife in his hands. This was not how he imagined he was going to be sent to Mandos, but… there was nothing he could do. And he wasn´t sure he wanted to, not after the pain of losing Rhaegar had ripped open the one he had carried for centuries with the name of Elros. “You cut down my sons during that battle, bastard.”

“Have cut down hundredths of people in my life” more than hundredths. Thousands… but he wasn´t going to tell.

“I don´t care about them, I care about my boys…”

“You aren´t probably going to believe, Lord Umber, but I know your pain…”

“You know shit…”

“Yes, I know. I also lost a son long time ago” informed Maglor, gritting his teeth. The pain… he thought that time would make it disappear, but it remained. It only… mumbled. “My Elros was taken away from me by a sickness many years before…”

“Liar” Mors grunted. “And even if you are telling the truth, it doesn´t matter. Your pain will disappear soon. I´m still going to send you to your boy…”

“I will have to ask you to leave, Lord Umber” a third voice joined the conversation. They both stared at the intruder, Lord Eddard Stark, and remained silent. “Now, please” Mors obeyed, grunting about not being able to avenger his sons. “I have to say, you have gotten plenty of dangerous enemies, my lord. I advice you to remain under Lord Arryn´s protection.”

“What are his designs for me then”

“No one knows, but he is a man of honour…”

“A man of honour wouldn´t have planned the downfall of the monarch he swore loyalty to. A man of honour wouldn´t have put kin against kin, lied to his foster son about the love of a woman who wanted nothing to do with him…”

“You don´t have a say in what my sister feels!!”

“Am I in the wrong then? Did she accepted on her own to marry Robert? Didn´t she refused when your father informed her that she was to marry the Lord?”

“I… well… she only needed to know Robert better and…” Ned struggled to find an answer. “Even if she was disappointed by him, that didn´t gave Rhaegar the right to kidnap and rape her like the despicable man he was.”

“You really think that happened?” Maglor laughed hard. “After all this time… victors continue writing history” he practically doubled over in laugher. “And they manage to turn love into rape and an usurpation into a rightful call for justice. Oh, what Lord Arryn and your side would have done with the Lay of Beren and Lúthien if you have been on Morgoth´s side…”

“They wouldn´t lie to me”

“No, Lord Stark, they would lie to you if it fits their interests” the elf said. “Don´t misunderstand Lord Arryn, my lord, he loved you, but he is not above lying to those he cares about to achieve his goals. And right now, his goal is the Iron Throne.”

“He won´t…” Ned felt like fleeing the place.

“Hope you realise your mistakes before it´s too late, Lord Stark” the noldo sighed. “Is there anything more you wanted to ask me?”

“Yes, where is Daeron going to land?” he didn´t know why Jon wanted Maglor´s Paramour, but the ancient lord told him to inquire about him. That it was important. So Ned decided to question the prisoner about his whereabouts too. “We know that he is in Essos contacting sellswords companies, but will return soon…”

“Why? Are you trying to capture him too?”

“Right now, Targaryen loyalists are being hunted around. The best thing for you and your lover is to remain under Lord Arryn´s protection until you take the black…”

“Oh, I´m never doing that. Enough Oaths have I swore to last a lifetime…”

“It´s your only option”

“That´s what you believe, Lord Stark, but the truth is far from there” Makalaurë looked up. “Following Gil Estel to the West is the Land of my childhood. There he will go and there we will meet again once this is over.”

“Gil Estel?”

“You edain call it the wanderer star and concede it no importance, but it had an interesting history. For us is the star of High Hope, which guides us to the homeland…”

“You are insane” Eddard said before leaving directly to Jon Arryn to tell him that the man wasn´t going to cooperate. He only hoped that he wasn´t causing an unnecessary death…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? I wanted to make some paralelism between the history of Rhaegar and Lyanna and Beren and Lúthien, so I used them to explain why Maglor could return to Valinor. And he is going to return, as there is a surprise waiting for him there. You will see soon. Review!!


	6. Chapter 6

Maglor has been a prisoner of war for a couple of weeks when he was finally dragged back to King´s Landing. And it was painful to see it like that. The peasants of the city, hiding in the alleys or searching for something to eat between the destruction the Sack has left behind. A Sack perpetrated by Tywin Lannister and his forces. His blood boiled when he thought of the insatiable lord and his greedy brood, the cause of the Final Fall of the Dragons. He tried to ignore what the man had done, but it was hard. Hard not to see a bunch of soldiers in Lannister red raping a woman in front of her house or the children wailing for deceased parents with their throats cut open.

“Do you see what your greed has brought this people, lord Arryn?” he asked as a couple of Valeman forced him to ride behind their lord. “Do you see? The pain you and Tywin Lannister are bringing?”

“It´s you and the dragons the ones that…”

“Do you really think so?” the musician moved, glaring at him with all the hate he could muster. “Aerys might have send more than a few to the Pyre, but your Rebellion has costed more lives than all of the Mad King´s executions. And Rhaegar would have been…”

“Rhaegar was a madman and a rapist who would have destroyed the kingdom” Jon Arryn said. “And I don´t want to hear more about it. Sir Corbray, please make sure the prisoner is in silence for the rest of the trip.”

“With pleas…”

“At least tell me that you are punishing Tywin Lannister for what he has done here” Maglor pleaded, hoping that at least the man still had a sense of justice. “Tell me that you are going to give these people justice”

“It´s enough” a gag was put in place as the Lord of the Vale grunted. How could he even begin to think that? Tywin Lannister was a necessary ally, dammit, he had won the war for them!! There was no way he was going to punish him for something like the method he used to make sure they held the Iron Throne.

They crossed the city to enter the Red Keep, going directly to the Throneroom, where Jon was greeted with the sight of Ned picking up a fight with Lord Lannister. Robert, who was already on the Iron Throne was smiling down at something in red and scarlet that was put in front of him, probably by Lannister soldiers. He stopped when he realised what it was, something hard to miss because of the red pools that surrounded each of the moulds. Maglor´s eyes also widened when he realised what it was. Without even thinking, he released a wail so loud that the crystals in the windows broke, despite him wearing a gag. The lords stopped whatever they were doing to cover their ears, while the elf started sobbing and lamenting in quenya, crying over the bodies of Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon. He then turn to anger, throwing curses over the Mountain, Amory Lorch, Tywin and his brood.

“Take him away, quickly!!” Robert ordered. The Vale soldiers obeyed, removing the noldo from their king´s presence. “Dammit, didn´t thought he could scream that loud. Busted my ears!!” the stormlander made an annoyed sound. “Anyway, Lord Tywin, great to see that you finally got the grumptions to join us in our Rebellion. And just in time, I say!! Great to have gotten rid of the mad dragons!!”

“Your Grace…”

“Robert” Ned directed the attention to himself again, displeased. “Even if Lord Lannister´s actions put an end to the war, he should be punished for the actions he and his soldiers took during the Sack. Beginning with Ser Jamie and the mad dogs sent to murder Princess Elia and her…”

“Ahh, come on, Ned, don´t be such a joykill” Baratheon utterly disregarded his friend´s claims for justice. “We have won the war!! I have the Iron Throne and the dragons are dead or soon to be!! And will soon rescue Lyanna!! Celebrate with us!!”

“I can´t celebrate over the bodies of children and I don´t see how you could” Ned stated, feeling rage inside of his chest. Couldn´t believe his best friend, the one he knew the most, would disregard justice in such a way.

“I don´t see children, only dragonspawn and a used whore” the new king said, stepping over the bodies of the murdered infants to reach his friends. “And if you don´t see it that way, then I don´t want you here. Go to Storm´s End and lift the damn Siege, so Stannis doesn´t die of hunger there. And bring a better attitude from the trip.”

“Is that a command, your Grace?”

“It is”

“Then I will retire and use this opportunity to search for my sister too. I bid you good day, your Grace” The Lord of Winterfell stormed off, ready to order his most trusted men to saddle the horses and ride for the Stormlands. After he left, Lord Tywin approached the young king, who was drinking his second cup of wine in the morning. 

“Your Grace, I wanted to talk to you about your marriage” he started, trying to be careful. “I know that you perhaps are having doubt, but now that Lady Lyanna is spoiled goods, maybe you should search for a new Queen.” The Lion Lord said. “My only daughter, on the other side, is still a maiden and ready for marriage. I also can assure you that Lady Cersei is quite the beauty, one that will make you forget that…”

“I want Lyanna!!” Robert yelled, sounding a lot like a spoiled little brat. “Lyanna and no one else!! I love her!!”

“As you say… your Grace” Tywin retired, plotting already how to get rid of the Stark girl so that his own daughter could take her place besides Robert Baratheon. Maybe he should send Amory Lorch, the Mountain would also kill Lord Stark in his brutality and make thousands of extra problems. Yes, Lorch was the best answer. He will know how to get rid of the wolf girl without implicating her…

“Lord Lannister, a word” Jon Arryn, newly named Hand of the King, caught up with him in that moment. “I should not say this, but I agree with you. Lady Lyanna is spoiled goods now. A King couldn´t marry her. Your own daughter, on the other side…”

“Cersei would be more than glad to marry the king” the Lion Lord said, smiling inwardly. An ally like Lord Arryn was not to be underestimated. He could convince the new king of everything, even to change Lyanna for Cersei. But he would also have to know the price for that help. “Are there conditions?”

“Funds for the Iron Throne and the Reconstruction of the Kingdom, of course” they spent a few hours debating the conditions for Lannister support in exchange for Cersei´s marriage to the Stag King, but there was one that surprised Lord Tywin between all of the things Jon was asking of him.

“Why Daeron?” the blond questioned with a raised eyebrow. “I know you have Maglor, his pervert lover doesn´t have a value for you. At least not one that I could see.”

“My reasons are my own. Don´t worry, they can´t damage you in any way” the other didn´t look so happy. “But if you insist, I promised an ally to give him the two of them when the Rebellion finished.”

“Can I know the name of this ally?”

“It would be better if not” if word got out about his dealing with Theobald, no one would trust the Citadel anymore. And that, for the sake of the Kingdom, had to be preserved. “He is in no way a threat to you, my lord, you have my word.” The falcon sighed. “And if you don´t ask questions and agree to give me Daeron, I will make sure that Lady Cersei becomes Queen.”

“Then we have a deal, Lord Hand” they shook hands. Then Lord Tywin went off to prepare the trap. He had a lot of soldiers around the city, he could very well set up a trap to capture a lone man with a reduced escort. 

Or no escort at all, as he found out when the sindar actually returned to the city. The men Maglor sent with him betrayed them, trying to gain pardons by giving him up to Robert Baratheon. That was the reason he had to hike a ride hidden in a merchant ship, something that allowed him to dodge the trap Tywin set up for him. At least for a few hours, because his silver hair made him very noticeable. His attempt to intrude into the Red Keep trough the secret passages too.

“Dairano… my love…” he raised his head when he heard that voice talking directly to his mind. How much energy must Makalaurë be putting to use osanwë with someone that was not directly in front of him? Was this only possible because of their marriage bond? “My love… please… don´t try to free me… you will… you will… unable” the voice stopped for a second. “Follow Gil Estel, go to the West as you always wanted, wait for me there…”

“Makalaurë, I won´t go anywhere without you”

“Have to… you will be captured if you try something alone” the osanwë was getting weaker. “Go. No matter how much time… anything… I will return to you… Melmenya… Le melin…”

“Wait” but the connexion was already lost. Maglor must be really having it rough. So much that it hurt Daeron too… but he couldn´t refute the argument. If he got in there alone, he will be captured by the enemy and then what? He can´t be of help if he is in a cell besides his husband.

In that moment, an idea sparkled in his mind. He was alone in that part of the world, unable to connect with even the small Avari tribes that were still somewhere around. But if he went east, following the path of the Vingilote like Makalaurë suggested, he might find someone that could help them. Correction, he might find the only person that would be willing to help a Feanorian knowing all he had done. And for that, he needed to reach Tol Eressëa as soon as possible.

And for that, he was going to have to cross the Crownlands and into the Westernlands, get a ship there and Sail.

“I hope someone can return from there, because if I have to wait a thousand years just to see you again…” he ranted as he hid his hair the best he could and collected a few supplies for the travel. Everything trying to lay low in the eyes of the Lannister soldiers pullulating around, searching for easy preys.

Daeron of Doriath was many things, but he was not that. Less of all for edain. Something those Lion followers were going to learn soon. 

-In Dorne-

The very last place in the Seven Kingdoms Lord Eddard Stark wanted to be in was the Desert of Dorne. It was not that he hated the southernmost Kingdom of Westeros, but northerners were definitely not made to handle high temperatures. And why? Because he received a letter from the lady he used to be enamoured with, the same one that slept with his brother after giving him hopes, saying that Lyanna was being kept there. Anyway, Ashara was still their best clue, as her brother was one of his sister´s guards. She would know where he was.

“My Lord, we are arriving at the site the Lady Ashara signalled” Howland Reed informed. “I can see the Tower”

“Thank you, Lord Reed” Ned kicked his horse to go faster. Soon he was in front of what looked like an old watchtower from the ages of the conquest of Dorne with three knights of the Kingsguard in the base. Three knights that refused to give the lady up despite their king and prince being dead. A fight broke up then, a fight that ended up taking the lives of all but two of the men: Lord Eddard Stark and Howland Reed. “Lyanna!!”

“NED!!!”

“LYA!!” the Lord of Winterfell run upstairs at top of his speed, leaving Howland to tend to the bodies of the fallen. He burst into the room, feeling first of all the smell of the winter roses Lyanna loved so much and blood. Lots and lots of blood. His eyes then landed on the bed, where his sister was laying in a mess of red sheets. “Lyanna…”

“Ned… big brother… how have I… missed you” she managed to say once her brother have rushed to her side. “I´m sorry… Father… and Brandon… I didn´t… didn´t want to marry him” she confessed. “And I loved… Rhaegar… I love Rhaegar…”

“Oh, Lya” the lord said. After all his attempts of denying it, Maglor was the one in the right. Robert and Jon´s version was mistaken.

“I want to be strong…”

“You are” Ned turned to the lonely other woman in the room. “Give her some water!!” she squeaked. Lyanna tried to make him listen, but he wasn´t listening to her. “Is there a maester?!!”

“No… No, Ned, listen… listen” she made him look at her. “I… I need you to do something for me” she also called for the woman, who was holding something in her arms. Something that turned out to be a newly born baby. “He… he was born late… he didn´t want to leave my womb in time” she breathed hardly once more. “His name is… is Jaeherys… Estel… Targaryen” she managed to say. “You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned. Promise me”

“I promise”

“Thank you” Lyanna breathed a few more times before she finally died, staring at her son´s eyes. Tiny, steel grey eyes that his uncle turned father could swear he had seen somewhere else. They were definitely not Stark, even if they could be mistaken for that. They were too… unnatural for that. Too strange.

The baby started to cry when his uncle´s tears started to fall into his face, taking the lord out of his inner thoughts. He needed to think of something and fast, because that babe in his arms, the one that he swore to protect… he was committing high treason by even thinking of hiding it from the king. But, at the same time, he wouldn´t even dare to give up his sister´s son to be executed by something he hadn´t even done. He was innocent. 

“My Lord” Howland Reed made him look up from the tiny face of his nephew, the one that now practically had a death warrant on his head. “We need to get moving. The prince needs a wetnurse and we both a maester. I have done what I can for the dead except the Lady, but we need to get moving.”

“We… we will take Lya´s body with us. I have… I have to present it to Robert so he believes me” he stared again at the babe, wincing in his arms. Uncomfortable. Ned put both arms around him, supporting him better. “At dawn, we ride for Starfall. I have to… have to present Ser Arthur´s sword to Ashara.”

“Aye, my lord” the Crannogman said, giving a curious look at the child. “What´s his name?”

“She called him Jaeherys… Estel Targaryen” Ned frowned. 

“A quenya amilessë? And not a northern one? Unusual”

“What?”

“Nothing, it´s just that… during my travels, I have come around traditions from all the Seven Kingdoms and was told that Valyrian people give their children two names. One given by the father and one by the mother. The second, in specific, is given by the mother and called amilessë”

“Really?” Ned frowned. Why haven´t Lyanna given her son a northern name if she was given the chance? Was that because of him? Because he was fighting her husband? Was that why she decided to honour Rhaegar´s traditions and give the babe a… quenya amilessë? Then something stroke him. His conversation with Maglor returned to his mind, especially the part about the star. Gil Estel. High Hope. From that he could extrapolate that his nephew´s name meant… “Such a simple, but with a big hidden meaning.”

“My lord?”

“I am carrying Lyanna´s hope now, Howland, I can´t fail her” he finally teared his eyes away from the child. “Because of that, no one can know. From now on, this child is Jon Snow, bastard son of the Lord of Winterfell and that´s all he is going to be.”

“My liege, the life of a bastard…”

“He will live, isn´t that enough?” the taller northern said with a sigh. “Later in life I… I will give him something. Or make him join the Night´s Watch. Many Lord Commanders have been of Stark Blood since the beginning of the brotherhood, he will without a doubt become one of them. One to be remembered.”

“My lord” Howland was already feeling pity for the boy. The Night´s Watch in the past was a honourable order, but it had become nothing more than a glorified penal colony in the last years. Seeing the Lady´s child, a prince of the blood, become one of them… “You should rethink your decision.”

“It´s the safest way for him. If he swears the vows, Robert won´t be able to touch him, even if he finds out his true origins. And he wouldn´t have a reason, my nephew won´t have a claim to the Throne…”

Reed didn´t believe something like that would stop Robert Baratheon, but didn´t comment. His lord was so blind when it came to the man that he probably won´t listen. His pitiful look landed on the child again, noticing now a gleam of gold hanging from the covers. For a second he believed it to be a Seven Pointed Star of the faith of the Andals hanging from a delicate chain, but then noticed it was different. An Eight Pointed Star, what could it mean?

-In Dragonstone-

“Push, your Grace, push!!” the midwife screamed as she helped Queen Rhaella birth her last child. Ser Willem Darry was outside with Prince Viserys, who was a little scared at the roaring storm outside their window. Finally, a baby´s wail sounded at the same time as a lightning illuminated the place.

“Is it done? The Queen delivered a healthy child? Is she alright?” Darry asked as soon as the midwife went outside with a pale face.

“Queen Rhaella delivered a healthy princess, Ser” she informed. “But she is not fine. The delivery took a lot from her and carrying at her age… she didn´t have much time left, I´m sorry” she shook her head. “She asked for the Prince. And you, Ser.”

The man guided his little charge inside his mother´s dying chamber, where Rhaella was waiting with the little princess at her breast. She looked deathly tired and pale, but happy with her new daughter. Also sad… because he was going to have to leave her.

“Isn´t she pretty? Aerys wanted a Daeron, but I guess it will have to be a Daenerys instead. Princess Daenerys Targaryen” she showed the girl to Viserys. “You will have to be good with your sister, my son. Now that… that your father and brother are not here and I will soon depart, you will be all she has…”

“No, mother, don´t… I am King!! And I command you to stay!! You can´t leave!!”

“I´m sorry, my boy, but there are some things even a king can´t change” she breathed once hardly. “Ser Willem, you are to take my son and daughter to Essos. We can´t risk them getting captured, they are… they are the hope of House Targaryen, the Seven, Eru and his Valar guard them.” She breathed difficulty. “Do it, Ser, don´t worry about this dying woman and grant her wish of seeing her children safe before her depart.”

“Right… right away, my Queen” Willem bowed. “It has been an honour.”

“Thank you” Rhaella then remembered something. “Before I forget, I have to name her too. Listen well, Ser, her amilessë… is Nerdanel. For Lord Maglor´s mother” the Queen smiled sadly. “He said that she was wiser than anyone he had known, so… I want… my daughter to be like her. Wise and strong like her…”

“Of course, my Queen” Ser Willem bowed again, exiting the place, ready to brave the storm.

Unknown to him, he wasn´t the only one trying to brave the sea that night. Daeron, having just arrived in the Westerlands after weeks of pushing himself beyond his limits, the last few evading the patrols sent by a decided Tywin Lannister, was dragging a paddle boat towards the shore. Once his stolen vessel was in the water, he prayed to Ulmo to open for him the road to the Immortal Shores, for Uinen to have mercy on him and for Ossë to not sink his ship. He didn´t have the time or the will to visit Mandos. His prayers were interrupted by the sound of soldiers screaming to get him, so he climbed in the thing and started paddling towards the deeps, hoping for the best.  
Meanwhile, Ossë was enjoying the show in Dragonstone. Seldom did Lord Ulmo allow him to influence the Middle Earth anymore and he found himself enjoying this opportunity the fullest. Sinking a fleet was great, sinking two…

“You are needed somewhere else. Lord Ulmo commands you to go to the Westerlands” Uinen said to her husband, surfacing near him. “Don´t worry, you are going to be able to return and enjoy more of this once you have sunk a few ships following an elf in a paddle boat.”

“Boring” an irritated Ossë mentioned before sinking and going to do his master´s will. His wife remained behind, carefully following Ser Willem Darry´s ship, making sure the two little ones inside and the old man were safe. She returned after they were away from the storm and on their way to Essos…

“Oh, poor child” she said when she saw a young knight falling from a ship. She felt something from that young man, something… strange. A spark inside of him, of eldar and maia despite the strong edain heritage. And a whisper in the waves, in the voice of a woman. “Vardamir”

Trough half lidden eyes, Stannis saw the Lady of the Sea taking him in her arms and guiding him back to the surface despite the weight of the armour on him, where Ser Davos rescued him. Before she sunk again, he tried to touch her, only managing to grab her hairpiece. He spat some water, rising to his feet as soon as he could, wondering how could this be. 

“Dreamed that a mermaid came to my aid…” the young lord said, surprised. Then he opened up his hand, the red coral hairpiece glittering in his hand. He looked around in surprise. Maybe there were gods after all.

-In Aman-

“What happened?” someone near Daeron asked in clear sindarin, poking the fainted elf. This one felt the discomfort, but was too tired to do something about it. Or to even open his eyes. So, so tired…

“A sailor?”

“What a strange boat he has. Did he come from Middle Earth?” the minstrel grunted a bit to interrupt the debate about if there were still elves in the Hither Shores in favour of getting himself medical attention. “Inform Lord Elrond!! He is hurt!! Get him to the Homely House!!”

The Homely House, eh? It seems that he managed to reach his destiny. Now, if only he could remain awake to inform the Lord of his father´s plight, it would be wonderful. If only…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Hope you remain healthy there. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. The Stannis part was something of a last minute inspiration. You are going to find out the reason why in another chapter. For now, Daeron has already reached Aman and soon will contact Elrond. Now, how will the Lord of Imladrys react to the news that his father is now a prisoner of War? Or of Lord Arryn? Review!!


	7. Chapter 7

When Daeron woke up again, he didn´t know where he was for a couple of seconds. The light blinded his addled eyes and the softness of the bed felt strange. His throat also felt sore after so much time without drinking water, something only an elf would survive. He turned a bit, the pain shooting up in his spine. But he couldn´t stop. He had to… had to do something. What was that again? Maglor should be… Maglor!! Yes, that was it!!

“Oh, I see that you finally awoke” a voice got him out of his panicking thoughts. “There is no need to freak, guest, as everybody is welcomed in this house despite their past” the healer sat down near him, holding what smelled like a mixture of herbs in his hands. “We welcome to the homely house. I´m Lord Elrond and have been taking care of you for a while now.”

The silver haired elf´s eyes widened when he heard that name. Without even meaning, he had found who he was searching for. Now he only had to deliver the message. If only his throat didn´t feel like it was made of sand. 

“If you are worried about your belongings, here they are” the peredhel said, handing over the small bag he had carried with him since he left Essos. Daeron smiled when he saw it, the Feanorian rings were still safe. “We haven´t rummaged in them, we respect your privacy and the rules of hospitality” the sinda wasn´t hearing, searching frantically inside of the bag. Before he lost his senses again, he need to pass his message. “Excuse me, is there something you want from…” a ring with a sapphire was put in the lord´s hand. A ring he recognized immediately. “Where did you get this from?”

“Mag… Mag...”

“Maglor? Do you know him? Did he sent you here?” suddenly Elrond didn´t sound like the powerful lord he had been for centuries, but like a child asking desperately for a dearly missed parent. “Is he well? Will he come”

“Help…”

“What?” in that moment, the Minstrel of Doriath grabbed the other by the neck of his tunic and used osanwë to force his message into the mind of the peredhel. It was an intrusion and went against every rule between elves, but right now he was desperate. Hope the other understood. Elrond took a step back after the explanation ended, shaken to the core, the bottle of medicine in his hands falling from his hands and shattering as the doriathrim lost consciousness again. “GLORFINDEL!!”

“My lord!!” the golden haired captain of guard appeared in a second, a hand on his sword. According to him, the half-elf was too naïve. He needed someone to guard his back even in Aman. “What happened?! Did he tried something?!”

“No, our guest… Daeron just brought me news of my father back in Middle Earth” the brunette got up immediately, already making plans for the risky mission he was going to have to mount to rescue the Feanorian. 

“Daeron? Of Doriath?” the golden lord of Gondolin asked, surprised. He had known that the musician was one of the few elves still remaining in Middle Earth, but…

“I will explain later, now we have to go” he hurried out of the door, his expression turning into one of pain. “He is hurt and alone, my friend, and so much in pain. He needs me, Lauro, I have to go.”

“But, my lord, it´s impossible to cross the sea back to the Hither Shores” the older elf reminded him. “Lord Ulmo will sink whatever ship that braves such an enterprise before letting it´s inhabitants cross.” He sighed. “I strongly suggest you to wait. If he truly is such pain, he will fade quickly and land himself in the Halls of Mandos, where he should have been a long time ago. You will see him again…”

“After probably millennia…”

“Millennia are nothing for us”

“Glorfindel” Elrond said, suddenly sounding older than his years. He was clearly using his maia heritage to try and convince his captain. “I can´t explain it to you, but I must do this. He is my father, I can´t leave him alone there. Not with what Daeron has shared with me” the gondolindrim frowned, but didn´t say a word. “Tell me if you are with me now, because I´m going even if I must do it alone.”

“You have my loyalty, Lord Elrond, and if you must go retrieve the kinslayer, I will be with you” the golden lord said, bowing to his will. He preferred to be by his lord´s side if he was going to face danger and if their enterprise was destined to land them all in Mandos… well, he would gladly land himself there a second time for the peredhel. “I will reunite a contingent of our strongest soldiers and get us a ship.”

“Do so” the brunette sighed. “Get the twins. They must be in returning from the last hunt now. We are going to need them.”

“As you wish” Glorfindel bowed and left the room, making a mental list of the few remaining Feanorian loyalists that still lived with them. They would be the best choice for the rescue mission. Or at least the only ones willing to go for the kinslayer. In the middle of his way to the barracks, he crossed the Lady Celebrian, who was on her way to the infirmary. “My lady”

“Captain” she saluted respectfully. “I was looking for my husband, is he still attending to our last guest?”

“Yes, he is giving Lord Daeron a session of healing before handing his care over to another healer” the silver lady raised an eyebrow. That was not usual in her spouse, not at all. “Maybe he should explain it to you himself, my lady. I have to prepare to leave soon.”

“Leave? Are you planning to go somewhere?”

“It´s the Lord the one who has ordered this enterprise, my lady, after he heard Lord Daeron´s news from Middle Earth.”

“Then I should… wait, have you said Daeron?” he nodded. “Of Doriath?” another nod. “Great news to have him here. King Elwë is going to be happy to know that he has finally sailed. Hope he will recover soon and might delight us with his music before he leaves, my father had nothing but praises for his performances.”

“We might also soon become home to another fabled bard, lady Celebrian, if Lord Elrond´s quest is successful.”

“Then it´s about… his foster father” the nís stood tall. She knew of her husband´s history and have made peace with it, including the Feanorian part he was so loyal too, but would hate to lose her love because of the lost minstrel. “Thank you for informing me, my lord, I will go talk to my husband now.”

“As you wish, my lady”

Celebrian grabbed her skirts and went to the infirmary, where Elrond was already packing up the medicines he would take to the trip. He stopped when he saw his wife. The elven lady sat down next to the bed that still housed the unconscious Daeron and patted the seat near her, inviting him to join her. 

“I know what you are going to say, my love” the peredhel said after a few moments of waiting. “But it´s my father in more ways than Eärendil ever was” he sighed. He had made peace with the past and cultivated a relationship with his birth parents, but that didn´t erase the past. “He is in a big mess, a dangerous, I have to go to him. It´s my duty, one I should not have ignored back when I sailed.”

“You did everything you could to find him in time, it wasn´t your fault that he didn´t want to be found” the nís put a hand on his. “I´m not here to stop you.”

“Celebrian…”

“Let me finish” she instructed, raising a hand. “I know why you have to do it, husband. I might not be of the same opinion as you, but I have come to accept the place they held in your heart. Which is deeply Feanorian to begin with, you don´t make many efforts to hide who truly raised you” she sighed. “I have learned to accept and even love everything that came with you, my love. I only wish your family wasn´t so complicated.”

“Me too, love” he lowered his gaze to the medicine. “Frankly, he should have been less of a brat and return earlier. Or better, return with me…” he sighed. “Certainly he has a talent for dramatics he must have inherited from his father.”

“Certainly” the silver haired beauty grabbed his hand. “Just promise me that you are going to come back to me in one piece. I would hate to wait for centuries for you to come out of Mandos. And after I saw Lord Fingon´s wait…”

“Please don´t emulate Lord Fingon” Elrond got up. “Anyway, I´m already feeling calmer knowing that the House is going to be left in good hands. Your hands.”

“Mine? Are you taking the twins with you?” she frowned. 

“I need more qualified healers and warriors to come with me. But don´t worry, I won´t expose them to undue danger” Celebrian nodded, pensively. Then noticed the ring on the counter, along with a pouch. She opened it, noticing it contained more. “Thought I would never see them again. Wonder how he recovered them.”

“Lord Maglor had many secrets” she sighed. “Do you want me…”

“I don´t want to worry anyone else in case we didn´t manage. I will tell them myself” Erestor appeared in that moment, telling his lord and lady that a visitor had suddenly made appearance. Elrond was about to turn them off, when he heard who he was. “Lord Ossë, not all days you are seen out of your seas.”

“And I wouldn´t if Lord Ulmo didn´t have a soft spot for your line” the maia said, rolling his eyes. “He is going to allow you to cross, but the danger won´t stop there. And I would advise you to go any other day, if time wasn´t rushing…”

“My Lord?”

“Anyway, I know where you have to search and can take you straight there, but how you get in and out once you have recovered the kinslayer is up to you. Don´t be fooled, is going to be a tough if short enterprise. Might as well undust that trinket Celebrimbor made for you a few centuries ago.”

Elrond doubted a bit when the new Vilya was mentioned, but nodded. He hasn´t walked the world of edain for such a long time and promised Celebrian to come back to her, so he shouldn´t be taking chances. He went to his personal rooms after finishing talks with the maia about that Citadel place to retrieve the ring, slipping it in his finger. After all this time, using a ring of power felt strange, but at the same time familiar. His hand never forgot the weight, also the responsibility, that came with wearing it. Even after centuries.

“You come back to me, husband, do you hear me?” the silver lady said when it was finally time to sail. “And bring the children with you. I couldn´t stand to lose more.”

“Don´t worry, we will be back. I promise” he answered as he last embraced her and walked away. Back to Middle Earth…

-In Oldtown-

Frankly, when Glorfindel was told that Maglor was in need because of the edain, he had never imagined something so bad. Out of loyalty for his lord, he was going to go, sure, but he wasn´t expecting what they found out. Anyway, they arrived to the Hither Shores without a problem thanks to Lord Ulmo´s protection. Once there, they studied the Citadel for days, waiting for an entrance. It was made difficult because of the tight security a tourney in the city nearby was having, but…

“Apparently, the King, his family and his Hand are in attendance” Erestor informed when he came back to the group that afternoon, removing his hood. “The Hand is some sort of high councillor that attends to the king´s every business and speaks with his voice when he is away” the steward said. “Anyway, we are lucky. Tonight the security is going to be focussed on the royal family. We will be able to spirit Lord Maglor away with little problem.”

“That only if we are not caught in the flee” the captain answered, looking at his lord. “Anyway, it´s our best chance. We should strike tonight.”

“I agree. We will strike tonight” the peredhel said, nervous. The Hand of the King was here. Jon Arryn, the Lord of the Eyrie. The man who had devised the fall of a whole branch of Arwen´s children in favour of other, along with his father. It made something inside of him stir with anger, something he hasn´t feel since Isildur´s betrayal.

Back with Glorfindel, the captain was fine with attacking that night. The less they spend in the Hither Shores, the better. Even for the kinslayer himself. They were ready to treat injuries, no matter how terrible… even so, he didn´t imagine what they found when they stroke that night. What he saw when he climbed the window first, those grey men opening up an eldar and attempting to snap bones while it was still awake and living… Elrond can´t see that, he told himself before striking the first of them, scaring the others. Then he put himself between father and son (as much as he hated to think of the Feanorian taking Eärendil´s place in his son´s heart, he had to admit who had really raised the peredhel). This cruelty shouldn´t be seen by a loved one.

“Please, mime héru, don´t túl closer. Erestor pole…” he pleaded, but the Lord of Imladrys seemed determinate to be the one that attend to the sick and fading elf in the table. 

“Ni´m i héru healer símen, captain, ar ni have seen tare than fárea battle wounds ana…” he answered, approaching even closer. Elladan and Elrohir were behind him, unsure if they should approach the one they have been raised to think of as a grandfather.

“Sina na- lala battle harwe, mime héru, -yes´s crueltime.”

“Ni have seen tai too.” Elrond reminded him, dodging him to reach the table.

“Elrond, ve a nur, tye don´t mére- ana cen- your ontáro yare so na- so harna”

But it was too late. The peredhel already saw what was done by those edain who thought themselves so wise. A spark of truly Feanorian rage crossed his face for a second, before an urgency to heal appear. Whatever that was to be exacted as revenge for this, it was momentarily forgotten in favour of keeping the Son of Fëanor alive. Maglor whispered something the golden Lord of Gondolin couldn´t make up as the three half elves worked on closing his wounds enough to move him. After it was done, the captain himself carried the patient, who seemed lighter than he should.

“He doesn´t have much” he said to no one in particular.

“More of a reason to rush” Elrond reminded him in quenya, going to the window. They carefully went down the window, hoping to have a few good hours of start so they could reach their boat and Gil Estel´s path before the edain noticed their presence. Unfortunately, at the middle of their flee someone sounded the alarm, catching the attention of all the knights and lords at the tourney. 

“Dammit” Glorfindel cursed, hearing the city guards rushing to where they were. “Herunya, we have to move quickly. They will be on our toes soon.”

“I know” he turned to his men, analysing. “Erestor, his squad, me and Glorfindel are going to be the distraction. The others, go to the boat with Maglor and settle him in. Also prepare it for sailing in windy conditions.”

“Atar…”

“Your grandfather needs you more than me, my sons” the peredhel stated, turning from his children. “Don´t worry, I haven´t let my swordmastery become rust. Now go and use whatever knowledge you have to keep him alive until we arrive.”

Elrond and the chosen ones went away, leaving the twins in charge of the remaining soldiers. The older half elven knew they could trust them. Besides, even if they were few, he knew that there was no way the edain could defeat them. Elves were naturally much faster and stronger than them… besides, Erestor and the Feanorian loyalists he had brought with him were experts in diversion. And just in case, Glorfindel and Elrond himself were great warriors, specialized in hand to hand combat.

“Robert, wait, please…”

“Shut up, Jon!! I can do whatever I please!! I am king!!” the boisterous Robert Baratheon snapped him out of his inner thoughts. He knew that the king was near, but he didn´t realise he would become involved. This could end up getting complicated, king normally brought with them powerful warriors. “I haven´t had a good fight in years!!”

“You don´t even know who attacked!! It could be anything!!” this man who seemed to be the voice of reason was the Hand? He might end up taking revenge for his father after all. “Let the city guard handle this, for the Seven´s…”

“I don´t care what you say, I´m fighting!! Barristan, search for the intruders! They are probably just Ironborn scum, so we will handle this before…” an arrow nicked him, making Barristan unsheat his sword. It was from a useless city guard, but it was enough to make him notice the elflord hiding hear. 

“Your Grace, get under cover!!” the Kingsguard attacked. Elrond held his swords, engaging in combat with the aging knight. This one´s eyes widened. The strange intruder fought just like…

“Elrond!!” Glorfindel screamed, engaging in combat too, disarming Selmy quickly. To say the Kingsguard was surprised would be an understanding, but he pushed his thoughts aside for later. The edain unsheated a second sword he had, saying something in an unknown language that seemed to have the same roots as the common westron, but with heavy changes. “Herunya, the boat is nearing. Erestor has cleared the path for us.”

“Thank you, captain” the peredhel left the knight to the Balrog Slayer, who once again showed his legendary prowess by disarming Selmy and many city guard in their retire more without killing them.

“Selmy, what are you doing?!!” Baratheon screamed from somewhere behind them as the elves retreated towards the sea. “You are letting those squid scums go away…”

“Don´t worry, your Grace, the port guards will take care of them” Arryn assured, as the party rushed towards the sea. 

A white boat was already sailing when the king´s party arrived at the port, many ship of the Redwines in hot pursuit. They were so close to capturing it that Robert was smirking, but then a figure appeared on the deck of the white vessel, apparently extending a hand towards the others. Suddenly they were all attacked by a wild wind, making them collide with one another or simply collapse. While the guards and sailors tried to help the ones in the water before they drowned, Elrond gave their teleri build ship an extra impulse, sailing following his birth father´s light. He didn´t stop until he was sure they were on their way to Valinor and out of edain reach.

“My lord, you should take a rest…” Erestor then said, afraid of how weak his lord looked. Well, both of them, because Maglor didn´t look all too well either.

“Later” the peredhel answered gritting his teeth. He went down, reuniting with his sons, who looked deep in concentration over the prone form of his unconscious foster father. “How is he?”

“Not very well” Elrohir talked, making way for his father. “We found more lacerations on different parts of the body, many of them infected. He is also running a high fever, high enough to be life threatening even for a Calaquendi. We have applied antiseptic and sang healing into the different injuries, but, even with you, we are going to need help to heal him completely.”

“I was afraid of that” the Lord of Imladrys kneeled down, putting a hand over Maglor´s brow. It was indeed a hot, too much. And the breathing too shallow. “Daeron was no joking when he told me it was a dire situation.”

“No, my lord” Glorfindel appeared in that moment, his arms crossed and an angered expression on his face. There was no love lost between him and the kinslayers, but seeing one of the quendi like this angered him anyway. Had the edain forgotten them? How much they owed them? Their fights together? “The captain is setting course for Tol Eressëa…”

“No”

“No?” the golden elf raised an eyebrow. “Don´t you want to return to the Homely House hastily to attend to Lord Maglor´s injuries? To see Lady Celebrian?”

“As much as I want to, we can´t return home right now. Not with the… present company” Laurefindil understood. While Elrond considered the Feanorian brothers his parents, he also didn´t turn a blind eye to their crimes. And with the mainly sindar population of Tol Eressëa… well, that couldn´t end well. “Tell him to change course, to take us to another place.”

“Where?”

“Formenos” 

-Back in Oldtown-

“How could this happen?!! You are a bunch of incompetents!!” Robert Baratheon screamed and ranted as he threw things around in a temper tantrum more worthy of a child than a king. “And you Selmy!! Getting bested by that Ironborn scum!!”

“With all due respect, your Grace, I don´t believe it was Ironborn who attacked the Citadel” Lord Paxter Redwyne interrupted, earning a frown from Robert. “The squids might be pirates, yes, and use longships, but their kind of vessel is made of driftwood and dark coloured wood, not white and the sails… that kind of ship I have never seen before and I have seen a lot of Ironborn longships before, so I can be sure they are innocent.”

“Hummmm. Who was it then?” the stag rubbed his chin, thoughtful. Then turned to his Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. “You have been very thoughtful since your fight with that scum. Care to share why?”

“Because… I have heard that name before…” Barristan answered. 

“Which? Eunya?”

“No, Elrond” the knight bit his lips. “I have heard it getting mentioned before, when I was still serving King Aerys and Prince Rhaegar” the raven turned murderous when he heard those names. “Lord Maglor never talked much about his family, but the Prince managed to get him to do so from time to time. He mentioned a lot of names, Elrond and Elros between them.”

“And who was that?” Arryn asked, interested. He always thought that the councillor didn´t have any other family but the Targaryens, but if that was mistaken… everything could change. Beginning with his dealings with the archmaesters.

“His twin sons” Selmy finally answered, surprising everybody. Wasn´t Maglor devoted to his sword swallowing lover? But then again, even men with that proclivity could become fathers, so it wasn´t too unbelievable. “I never thought they actually existed, as there was no prove that they were real or alive if they even existed, but… when he mentioned them, he always referred only to Elros as dead. With Elrond he used sundered.”

“Well, they are not so sundered anymore!!” Baratheon growled. “Fucking dragonspawn, I want him dead too.”

“I think we first would have to catch him, which our ships already failed at, your Grace” Paxter said, looking at his fingers. What an eventful night. Apparently live could still surprise him after a long time. “We should wait for our informants in Essos to find them.”

“Yes, Robert” Jon Arryn continued, trying to pacify the king. “Leave it all to me, I will find and take care of this Elrond and his crew.”

“Lord Hand, I don´t want to intrude on anything, but it give me to think that the boy appeared here and not in the Vale or the Wall. And his father being his only connection to this land… makes me suspicious” all the eyes turned from Selmy to Arryn, who looked nervous. “What was he doing here in Oldtown? Did it have something to do with… Maglor?”

Arryn gritted his teeth. Apparently he was going to have some explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elrond enters the game of Thrones. Briefly? I don´t know. What do you think? What should happen? Surprise characters are going to appear from now on, hope you enjoy their presence in Westeros. Review!!!


	8. Chapter 8

Caranthir hated to be woken up in the middle of the night, especially when it was nearly immediately after a great shipment arrived and he was forced to spend whole days and nights without rest, cataloguing all the goods that arrived to have the finances of the island correct on the books. So, when he was woken up at an ungodly hour just to be told that a ship from Tol Eressëa had arrived, the Feanorian seethed. What does his nephew want now? He was sure that nothing of relevance had happened with Maitimo and they were not expecting a visit from this peredhel for a few months. Did he also mentioned it was an ungodly hour, for Eru´s sake? Tossing over a nightrobe and cursing his decision to sleep in his port office, he went to chew Elrond a bit.

“Do you know what…” he started as a plank was put in place, his Feanorian lamp high over his head so he could see everyone around.

“MAKE WAY!!” a trio of yelling peredhil interrupting the Dark Feanorian, seemingly not caring that he was talking. The elf´s face turned as red as his amilessë suggested, ready to scream, only to blanch when he realised what, or better who, they were carrying.

“Is that…” his lamp crashed on the floor as he approached to see the unconscious elf´s face. It was indeed his brother Makalaurë and he looked very pale. Too pale. And the way Elrond and his twins were chanting even while moving, his situation was as dire as it was painted for him. Moryo´s heart started to pound like crazy, his owner now fully awake. “YOU ALREADY HEARD, MOVE!!”

The few servants that were cleaning the shards of lamp from the floor scattered as the lords ran towards the door and into the streets. Caranthir should have felt grateful that he used a Feanorian lamp and not an oil one, with all the flammable things around him, but right now he couldn´t care less. Nor about the lost hours of sleep (he won´t be able to do it anyway, not with Kanno in such a horrible situation). His mind was placed on his newly recovered brother, not wanting to lose him so soon after seeing him again.

“What is happening?” a sleepy Celegorm appeared as soon as they entered the castle. “Some of us have to get up early tomorrow to… KANNO?!!” a rush of silverly blond was seen as he approached, getting in their way. “What in the IRON HELLS happened to him?!!”

“Don´t be an idiot and MOVE!!!” his younger brother screamed, pushing him out of their nephew´s way. “HE NEEDS THE HEALERS NOW, WE CAN PRESS FOR DETAILS LATER!!” Elrond rushed pass them towards the medical wing, leaving the brothers alone. “WELL!! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! GO TO INFORM EVERYONE!!”

For the first time in his life, Turko did as he was told and rushed towards the room he had been sleeping in, yelling the Amabarussar awake. The twins demanded answers as soon as they were conscious enough to get the message, but accepted to deliver the message along with their brother. Meanwhile, Caranthir went to his own section of the family wing.

“Elenamë, daughter” he called, knocking on a door. From his five children with Haleth, she was the only female. And the only healer too, taught along with Elrond. She was also Maglor´s favourite niece, which made him want to spare her this, but they need as many qualified healers as they have. “Your cousin needs you. There is an emergency and…”

“Atar, it´s enough. I don´t need explanations” she said, slipping into her nightrobe. “I will wake up all the healers, so cousin Elrond might have some rest after surely spend all his energies in trying to heal our guest.”

“It´s not a guest”

“Then what?”

“Well…”

-In another room-

“What is all the scandal?” Maedhros asked, uncovering the Feanorian lamp he kept in his bedtable. By his side, Fingon buried himself in more blankets. They were both as naked as their nameday, not really up to dressing after their passionate lovemaking earlier. “One would think that they learned to make silence after so much time holed together here.”

“Hummmm, so loud…” moaned the Fingolfinion, rolling a bit more.

“Agre…”

“NELYO!!! WAKE UP, YOU IDIOT!! KANNO IS BACK!!” Celegorm´s voice was ear splintering at that hour in the night, but the message was sweet. Anyway, it could have very well have been delivered in the morning, when they were all taking breakfast together in the main Hall, so… “YOU AREN´T UNDERSTANDING!! HE IS SEVERELY INJURED!! SO THROW FINNO OUT OF THE WINDOW AND COME HERE!!”

“WHAT?!!” oh, and the last part was not needed. Findékano´s presence in his room and his relationship with him was supposed to be a secret. His thoughts were interrupted by a door opening, so he grabbed a tunic from the floor as soon as he could while his cousin hid inside of a wardrobe. “Give me a second!!”

“Come on, everybody must already be there” Celegorm opened as his brother tried to slip the thing over his head. 

“Finno can come if you want…”

“What gives you the idea that he is here?”

“Nakedness, your bed in a disarray and if you haven´t noticed, you are trying to fit yourself in a blue tunic several sizes too small for you” Maitimo groaned, tossing the thing off and going for another one. After putting it in, he grabbed his nightrobe and secured it, leaving his room to go to the healing wing. “This stays between us, do you understand?”

“Sure” the blond rolled his eyes. He couldn´t believe Nelyo still thought his relationship was a secret. Practically everyone in the castle knew. 

“Then… how is he? And the situation?” the redhead asked with guilt. He was the one that was beside Maglor at the end. The one that should have stayed by his side, no matter the despair he was feeling. Of something horrible befall his younger brother, then it was his…

“Not good” confessed Tyelkormo, lowering his head. “Elrond is seeing to him, Caranthir barely let me see him with the urgency to take him to the healers…” oh, it was very bad. If Elrond wasn´t enough to help him, then the situation was more than dire. “Maitimo, whatever that happens is not your fault.”

“What?”

“I know your fondness for taking the blame for whatever that happened to us in Arda and… for leaving Makalaurë alone after the Silmaril theft. But… no one blames you for doing what you did… as long as you don´t do it again, ever” suddenly Celegorm sounded too firm. “Anyway…”

“I shouldn´t have left him alone”

“Kanno is an adult, he can take care of himself. And whatever that happened while he was away, it´s all his responsibility. Specially because he should have sailed long ago” the blond crossed his arms. “Now, put another face and get ready for showing support. Elrond is doing the best he can, you owe it to him to show some confidence.”

“Yes” they walked down the stairs towards the healing wing, where the peredhel was battling injuries and infection to save the second Feanorian´s life.

-In another room-

“ATAR!!! AMMË!!!!” two voiced coupled with two pairs of fists on their door woke up Fëanor and Nerdanel, who had a room away from their numerous and very loud brood for the sake of peace. It, of course, didn´t last long when some member of that same brood came to search for them.

“For Manwë and all of his valar and maiar, do they know what time it…”

“KANNO IS BACK!!”

“ELROND BROUGHT HIM BACK!!”

“HE IS HURT!!”

“BADLY HURT!!”

“FADING TOO!!”

“YOU CAN´T KNOW THAT!!”

“CAN TO!!”

“CANNOT!!”

“CAN TO!!”

“The two of you, shut up!!” Fëanor opened his door, more worried about his son than his sleep now. If he could ever return to sleep after what he heard. “What happened with Kanno? Is he in the healing wing already?”

“Must be” Telvo said, throwing his twin a glare. “Moryo said to come and wake you up while he goes to the healers, Curvo and Tyelpe and Turko to get Nelyo and Finno” the smith gritted his teeth. He didn´t need so much information. “Elrond is battling right now to keep him alive, but he has been unconscious since he arrived.”

“Fëanáro…” he looked at his wife over his shoulder. The nís has approached when she heard the name, a look of utter terror and desperation on her face at the thought of another of her sons dying. And so close to her.

“Don´t fear, my dear. He is on the best hands” her husband reassured her before turning back to his sons. “What are you waiting for? Let´s go.”

The Amabarussar in front of them, the couple rushed to the medical wing, where their son was now. Surprisingly, everybody was already there when they arrived. Curufin and Telperinquar were huddled in a corner, sitting each with a cup of wine in their hands, trying to distract themselves from the anxiety they were feeling by talking about properties of metals. Caranthir and his children were in another place, all of them against a Wall. The two older ones, Silmefinwë and Lanyafinwë, had jars of wine by their side, to refill any of his relatives´ cups in case they empty them. The other two, Isilmefinwë and Cendafinwë, simply remained quiet. There was no sign of the daughter, but it was expected. She was a healer, after all. Maitimo and Tyelkormo were silently on the side, taking their cups to their mouth from time to time, obviously not wanting to talk.

“How is he?” asked Fëanor, fearing the answer as he sat down near Moryo. He was the calmest in this situations, so he knew he would give a better report than the more emotional ones. 

“Not good” the fourth son sighed. “The healers have been huddled there for nearly an hour now and he doesn´t seem to be getting better.”

“Eru” Nerdanel sobbed by his side. “I prayed to have him back, but to recover him like this…”

“Shhhh, he is strong, my love, he is going to be alright” promised the smith, his eyes anxious landing on the door. It took some time before a healer finally exited the place, that being Elrond, followed by his children. When they saw the peredhil, all the Feanorians jumped to their feet to ask different questions, one ringing louder than the others. “How is he?”

“Not good. The infection is more stubborn than we thought and one of the cuts in his chest pierced the peritoneal membrane, compromising the organs. We are making everything we can, but… a lot depends on him” the Lord of Imladrys answered, tired. “Cousin Elenamë kicked us out because we were too tired to continue in her opinion” he crossed his arms, offended. “I could continue for a few hours, but she didn´t want to hear me out.”

“Pitya, you do look tired” Maedhros intervened in that moment, noticing the rings around his adoptive son´s eyes. They were almost as big as the twin´s. “Maybe a nap is in order here to recover. We will continue with the vigil and wake you up in case of need.”

“Humm” Elrond took a look at his sons, who seemed about to fell asleep. “It might not be a bad idea. Elladan, Elrohir, go with your grandfather. He will show you where you can rest the night.”

It was not exactly what Maitimo meant when he said someone need to sleep, but he knew his son. In the correct circumstances, Elrond could be as stubborn as Elros and this was definitely one. He wasn´t going to get him to sleep soon, so he counted his wins and guide the younger pair of twins to the room they used during their periodical stays in Formenos. He returned quickly after making sure Elladan and Elrohir were deep asleep.

“Are you okay?” the redhead answered once he returned, witnessing the peredhel lord nearly collapse in exhaustion. “This is enough, you need to rest too. You have been attempting to heal him for nearly an entire day without a break and after a rescue mission. Come on” he dragged the struggling peredhel away. “I will keep vigil for you, but you will do Kanno no favour if you drop dead. Or me.”

“I… need to be there for him. Until he wakes up at least” Elrond said weakly. “This is my fault. I should have done my duty as a son and bring him back with me when I set sail. If I haven´t left him behind…”

“I should have stayed there with him, no matter what. It´s what brothers do. I didn´t and that´s why it was my fault and not yours”

“Guess there is enough faults to dish out, no?” the raven answered, smiling weakly. “Also… maybe Elenamë is right and I should take a short nap. Could get back to healing as soon as I have replenished my energy.”

“Take as much as you need, there are plenty of competent healers here, beginning with your cousin.”

“Perhaps… but they might need help” he shook his head. “I won´t be able to sleep at all with this in my head. Let´s talk about something else” his smirk turned evil. “How are you and Lord Findékano doing? Why is he not in the waiting room with the family?”

“What… why do you think he is here?” Maedhros said with a blush on his face. His son too?

“Have you noticed you tied your hair with a golden ribbon?” the older prince grabbed the thing and pulled it out of his copper locks. Dammit, between all the things he could grab from Finno… “Good night, atya. Tell me if anything changes.”

“Good night to you too”

Nelyo returned to the waiting room, staying vigil, waiting for his niece to get out to announce good or bad news. Dawn broke before another healer came out, announcing that the fever was going down, but they were still unsure if he was going to live. It was deep into the day when Elrond finally appeared again, better rested and ready to heal. He entered the room without any interference and didn´t emerge again until the next day, as tired as he was when he arrived.

“He is still unconscious, but he will live. At least, that´s what we believe” the peredhel announced, rubbing his eyes. “I can´t say for sure that he isn´t going to fade…”

“His injuries are better then? What about the infection?” Fëanor demanded, as anxious as he was tired. He had drank nearly half of a jar by himself, something that should have helped ease his nerves, but didn´t help at all. Not in this situation.

“Healed and healed, as much as we could” Elrond announced. “The rest is up to him, so we should stay vigil” he scanned all the exhausted and distressed family. “Maybe we should take turns? So we can all rest, I mean.”

“The younger ones can go rest, we definitely aren´t going to be able” Caranthir said, looking as Silmë carried his sister towards her room. “We all will…”

“Yonya, we should hear him out” Nerdanel intervened, serious. “We won´t do Makalaurë any good exhausting ourselves out. At least not if all of us do it at the same time” she patted him on the back. “Now, your father and I will take the first turn. All of you, please, go to sleep. I will send someone for Maitimo and Carnistir when the time arrive.”

“Ammë…”

“Now, boys” she said in that authoritative tone that made children obey their mothers without a complain. Her husband stared at her, a weak smile in his face. She was so perfect… 

“I´m sorry, my son” Fëanor said when they both sat down near Maglor´s bed, grabbing a hand with extreme carefulness. “I´m so sorry”

The copper haired lady started to sing as her spouse apologized, trying to make Makalaurë aware of their presence. To make him feel safe… Meanwhile, the younger elf was dreaming. Dreaming of witnessing a catastrophe from a boat, the heart shearing feeling when a fire that could even burn the uruloki consumed the land of Elros descendants. He opened his mouth to express his despair, screaming a melody to the beach. A melody of mourn that seemed to never end…

-In Maedhros room-

“How is he?” Fingon asked from his place on the bed. He already knew their secret was out (they were shit at keeping it anyway), so when Maitimo wasn´t in the room he didn´t feel compelled to hide in a wardrobe. 

“Maitimo…”

“Recovering, apparently, but they can´t say for sure if he is going to live” the redhead answered, sitting on the bed. Valar, he was too stressed to lie down and sleep as his mother ordered… “Ammë send us to rest, she and atar stayed with Kanno to make sure that” he got up in a second. “You know what, I´m going back. I can´t leave him alone right now, not after I left him…”

“Maitimo, come back here” Finno suddenly sounded more authoritative. “You aren´t of help in the state you are now, ready to barge in and fight with anyone in your way. So sit down, lie on your stomach and breath” the older looked at him for a few seconds in a battle of wills before sighing and obeying. “Good, now close your eyes a bit, I´m going to give you a massage.”

“What good could a massage do in a situation like this?”

“Don´t underestimate me. After all this centuries, I know the places that release the most stress in your body. I bet I can rend you asleep in a couple of movements.”

“I bet not” it was not as easy as he said, but Fingon finally managed to put him to sleep. He then lay by his side, closing his own eyes to accompany him.

A few hours later, Maedhros opened his eyes when a knock on his door sounded. Kicking away the covers, the redhead approached to open his door a bit. Caranthir was there, looking as if he hadn´t close his eyes.

“It´s our turn, come when you are dressed”

-In Westeros-

Jon Arryn was not a happy man. And, considering that he had achieved the lifelong dream he had, it was vexing. He had just came back from screaming at the guards he had sent to Essos to track Maglor and his son, but they came empty handed. I fact, they didn´t even find a prove that Elrond had landed in any port in Essos. His failure to capture them along with the fact that he had to reveal to Robert and some other lords a few of his deals with the masters only accentuate the feeling.

“Where could that boy be?” he wondered aloud, listened only by his young assistant Petyr Baelish. Quite a useful lad he was, for someone of such a low birth. He might even rise to master of coin if he continued handling the finances of the court that way.

“Any part of the Eastern Shores of Essos is my guess. Or it could be Asshai or the Summer Islands” the lithe man answered. “Anyway, I thought that you should know that while I revised the past year´s balances in the Library, King Robert entered and started to throw books around with the intention to discard some of them.”

“Oh, for the Seven´s sake” not for the first time, Arryn regretted making that idiot boy king. His spoiled attitude caused more troubles than anything. “Hope he hasn´t throw out something important.” The Hand rushed to the Library, where Grand Maester Pycelle tried to frantically stop Robert in his purge of books. “Robert!! What are you doing?! You can´t throw away precious books of the royal collection!!”

“Bah, books written by dragonspawn, that´s what they are. Valyrian high poetry here, boring high lineages of Westeros there… And what the hell is this?” asked the raven as he threw books over his shoulders. “Looks like chicken scratches!!”

“Robert, what are you doing?” young Stannis Baratheon entered the Library in that moment in the company of his master, picking up a book that was thrown. He was there for his wedding to Lady Selyse Florent and Cressen decided to accompany him to consult a few things about Dragonstone in the Royal Library.

“Throwing some useless things away” the king answered. 

“What…? Lord Robert!! I mean, your Grace!! You shouldn´t do something like that, all books are important!!” the maester started to lecture his former charge, not noticing Stannis taking a peek at the book he had in Hand. The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms, With Descriptions of Many High Lords and Noble Ladies and Their Children, coincidentally opened in the Baratheon page.

“Cressen” he called when he noticed something strange there. “Why am I the only one with a second name?”

“A second name? I can´t recall you having one, Lord Stannis” the maester of Dragonstone asked, approaching the younger raven, peering at the book. He noticed that next to some names were the runes that Robert described as chicken scratches, but didn´t think they meant anything. Or at least he couldn´t understand. 

“But there it is, in this tengwar” he signalled his own name. “Stannis Vardamir Baratheon. Or at least that´s what I think it means.”

“You mean… you can read this runes?” Cressen was surprised. He never taught Stannis other pictography languages. He pointed to Rhaelle´s name. “What does this one says?”

“Tindómiel” he answered. “I don´t understand, it´s not like the Sindarin I learned…”

“Sindarin?”

“The language Daeron taught me? From his homeland? I talked to you about it once or twice” the maester didn´t admit that he wasn´t really paying attention when the younger Stannis talked about that part of his lessons from Daeron, but… maybe he was underestimating what his pupil learned. “Anyway, why did I have a second name and Robert and Renly doesn´t?”

“Now that you mentioned it” Pycelle got in the middle, grabbing the book. “Lord Maglor kept that book updated himself in the matter of names. And once, when he was updating it, I asked about the runes he added to the names. Apparently, it´s an ancient Valyrian tradition for both parents to give an infant a name. The second was given by the mother.”

“Mother gave Stannis a second name and us not?” Robert asked, suddenly tickled. That Lady Cassana had given his younger brother such a special as a second name…

“In fact, it was the Lady Rhaelle that did, now that I remembered” the maester of Dragonstone got in again. “The Lady pleaded with Lady Cassana every time she was pregnant to give the children a second name in that strange language, but she only accepted once” or more like Cassana gave up her right to name her son to Rhaelle, but Stannis didn´t need to know that. “I also remember her saying something about you being born the day of the valyrian goddess of the stars or something like that, so she named you in her honour…”

“Goddess of the Stars, eh?” Stannis was thoughtful. First a mermaid, then a goddess of the stars? Apparently there were gods after all. Near him, Jon Arryn was just as thoughtful, but not about Valyrian forgotten folklore or naming traditions. No, what came to his mind was that the Valyrians were keeping too many secrets. And it was time to unravel them.

“Lord Stannis, would you mind if I come with you when you return to Dragonstone? There is something I want to talk about with Lords Velaryon and Celtigar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And new characters appear. I´m sorry to people who don´t like this couples, but I added some aspects of my other fics in this one. I tried to avoid it, but it was inevitable in the end. Well, OCs are not going to mess too much with the history. Other things are also going to be different... mainly Jon Arryn taking a closer look to the Targaryens. How is that going to go? Review!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! Hope you enjoy this first chapter. I have always enjoyed crossovers between Silmarillion and Game of Thrones, specially "Fields of Gold" from Rogercat, so I decided to make one myself. Lately, I couldn´t get this out of my head... which is why I decided to make it the first new fic of this year. Hope you like it!! Happy New Year to everyone!!!


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